


Best Served Cold

by Makoto_Sagara



Series: Animagi Stories [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Animagus, F/M, Language, M/M, Slash, Smut, Torture, mild violence, ooc, sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 13:43:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makoto_Sagara/pseuds/Makoto_Sagara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part Three of the Animagi Series, Sequel to Set Me Free and Fine Dining for Animagi - Harry and Draco are exploring their relationship as partners in Animagus Recovery and lovers. However, someone is out to take revenge on all Death Eaters and Death Eater sympathisers that are Animagi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Served Cold

**Title:** …Best Served Cold, Sequel to Set Me Free  
 **Author:** Makoto Sagara  
 **Series:** Harry Potter  
 **Archive** : the usual suspects (ffnet, affnet, Foreverfandom, my site, mediaminer, makochanupdates on LJ, thehexfiles, hpfandom, and the harrydraco community on LJ); anywhere else, ask first.  
 **Pairing:** Draco/Harry, Ron/Hermione, Lucius/Narcissa, others  
 **rating:** NC-17   
**Word Count:** ~ 24,000  
 **Warnings** : Slash, ooc, angst, language, humour, EWE, gore, explicit slash sex  
 **Disclaimers:** I don’t own Harry Potter and his friends. They belong to a list of people, including the wonderful JKR, Warner Bros, Scholastic Publishing, Raincoat Books, and others. I’m only borrowing them for entertainment purposes.   
**Summary:** Harry and Draco are exploring their relationship as partners in Animagus Recovery and lovers. However, someone is out to take revenge on all Death Eaters and Death Eater sympathisers that are Animagi.

 **Author’s Notes:** I was always going to write this, I swear. But my friend in Canada, the lovely Raintenshi, demanded that I give this to her as a combination birthday/Christmas gift, so I had to pull out all the stops! And it didn’t help that my betas just went nuts over the idea of a sequel! Thanks to Jokes for the many brainstorms over ffnet’s PM system and email. I would have gone spare without them! There are a few spells in here that I’ve invented, so please don’t steal them!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco looked over at Harry and hid a smile as he watched the other man with his goddaughter. Rose Weasley and Harry Potter were sitting on the floor of Harry’s home at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, their heads—one black as night and the other a shiny auburn—were bent over a Muggle colouring book of giant cats. Rose was trying her best to colour the tiger a pretty white, even though the stripe pattern suggested it was a Bengal tiger and not a Siberian.

“Look, Unca Harry, Tiggy!” she squealed, pointing a chubby hand at her picture while brandishing a white, plastic nub in the other. Draco’s smile widened as the tender scene continued.

“Very pretty, Rosie,” Harry said fondly before sparing Draco a loaded look which made the blond’s mouth go dry and his cock take notice. “You’re going to be a famous artist when you’re older, no doubt.”

“Dwaco, look; I colowed Tiggy!” Rose yelled, making the blond smile widely. She did so love it when Draco transformed for her when Weasley allowed it. Not that he allowed it to happen very often or without his beady blue eyes tracking his every move. The poor girl still had a few issues with remembering that he _was_ her Tiggy.

“I see that, Rose,” Draco answered, putting down the book he’d been pretending to read while he watched his partner and the girl colour on the couch next to him. Kreacher or Winky would put it away later if he forgot it. “How would you like to play out in the garden with your uncle and me?”

“Draco, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Harry said, picking up the Muggle crayons and putting them back into their flimsy paper box. “You know the only reason Ron agreed to let us watch Rose at all was with the condition of no transforming without his express supervision.”

Green eyes glared at Draco, making him shiver in delight while he ignored his annoyance at Harry’s sudden desire to follow the rules. “What Weasley doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Or us.”

“Rose is three, Draco,” Harry responded, grabbing his goddaughter from off of Draco’s pant leg. “You’re not to teach her to lie to her parents, and you can’t expect for her to keep a secret either.”

“I’m not asking her to do either thing, Harry,” Draco whispered dangerously, trying his best not to let the child know that the two men were arguing. “I’m simply asking Rose if she would like to play outside. It is not my fault that her father is a paranoid prat who cannot understand that I would _never_ hurt his child in a million years.” And if that wasn’t true, then nothing was.

If it hadn’t been for Rose Weasley, he’d be stuck in his cold world at Malfoy Manor with his parents still, allowing them to arrange his marriage to the beautiful, but boring Astoria Greengrass. Instead, Draco was now dating Harry Potter and assisting his—lover? But they weren’t having sex yet, except that one time on their first date; boyfriend sounded too juvenile for two grown men; partner seemed so sterile for the looks they traded but it was the only thing he could really settle on that didn’t set all his hackles up—whatever Harry was in his Animagus recovery business. If he hadn’t gotten stuck in his Animagus form on his twenty-fourth birthday and left the Manor before he became trapped in a cage at Ron and Hermione Weasley’s home, then Draco wouldn’t have known how lonely and pathetic his life had become. When a three-year-old is your only real friend, it’s definitely time to rethink your priorities, he’d found.

“I _know_ that, Draco,” Harry said calmly, placing Rose down on the floor so he could wrap his arms around Draco’s waist. “I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt Rose, who you adore. However, Ron’s still not sure if he should trust you around _me_ , let alone his only child and daughter.”

Draco sniffed indignantly, allowing Harry’s touch to calm his temper. “I fail to see how Weasley is responsible for _your_ safety.”

“Don’t pout, Draco,” Harry whispered sweetly. “Come here and I’ll make everything better, yes?”

“Unca Har-ry!” Rose yelled, yanking on Harry’s trouser leg just before Draco could steal a kiss from him. “I wanna play in the backyard with Winky!”

“Oh, better not let Granger hear her say that, Harry,” Draco teased, giving the other man a mischievous smile. “Her hair will stand on end if she learns that you’re corrupting her poor daughter about house-elf freedom.”

“Harry? Malfoy?” Granger’s voice called from the fireplace. “Is it safe for me to come in? I’ve come to get Rose.”

“Come on in, Hermione,” Harry answered, pulling away reluctantly from Draco with a tiny scowl on his face. “We’ve no stray Animagi today. We were just talking.”

“Oh, good,” she replied before stepping through the fire to pop up beside the grate. Her royal blue robes were covered in soot and she sighed as she tried to remove as much as possible. “Have you thought about having your chimneys cleaned? They’re always so filthy. I simply don’t see how you can stand it, Malfoy.”

“You sound like Draco,” Harry answered, casting a quick Cleaning charm on the woman’s robes. “You’re more than welcome to do so if you find it so disgusting. You won’t hear me complain.”

“Merlin forbid that Malfoy and I agree on anything,” Granger said, flashing Draco a conspiratorial smile before picking up her daughter. “How are you then, love?”

“Mummy, Unca Harry and I were colouring. And Dwaco said that I could play in the backyard,” Rose babbled happily. “Winky made chocolate biscuits, but Unca Harry would only let me have two.”

“As he should,” Granger said indulgently. “Anymore would spoil your dinner that Grandma Molly has made.” She turned to look at her best friend sharply. “You are coming to dinner at the Burrow, aren’t you, Harry? Molly and Arthur will be so disappointed if you cancel on them _again_.”

“Well, we don’t have any pressing cases right now, so I suppose so,” Harry answered before looking at Draco. “Are you going to come this time? Or do your parents have something planned this evening?”

Draco thought about lying. For the last three or so months of their relationship, Draco had been turning down invitations to meals at the Weasley homestead and living with the looks of disappointment that Harry flashed him when the subject came up. He really hated when that particular expression crossed the other man’s face, but he didn’t know if he could deal with the whole red horde on their home turf. “Have I been particularly invited?”

“Well, Molly and Arthur want to meet you, Malfoy,” Granger said carefully. “They only know you from the stories we tell about the time when we were at Hogwarts together and what little Harry has said about you since you’ve begun seeing one another.”

Draco made the mistake of looking over at Harry and knew that he would give in. “Yes, of course, I’ll come. Is there some particular dress code?” He watched as Harry and Granger exchanged looks before bursting out in hysterical laughter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You needn’t have laughed, Harry.”

The dark-haired wizard turned to stare at his—he had a few seconds of panic as he tried to figure out what to call Draco before he settled on a good term—significant other with an indulgent smile as they exited the Floo and into his house. “Are you still harping about that, Draco?” He stepped up to the blond, put his hands on Draco’s shoulders, and rubbed his cheek affectionately with his own with one of their shared cat-like mannerisms. “I said I was sorry, and I meant it. It was just the look on your face when you agreed. I thought you were going to run off or kill yourself. I never wanted to make you feel bad, you know.”

“Could have fooled me,” Draco pouted, practically head-butting Harry’s left hand for more physical contact. It was times like this that he remembered Draco in his adorable tiger cub form when he’d first transformed and the graceful creature he was when they took dips in the magically warmed pool in Harry’s garden. “All you had to say was no.”

“Don’t be like that, Malfoy, or I’ll have to tell your dad,” Harry teased. When grey eyes flashed open, a current of desire so strong his knees almost gave out travelled up and down his spine.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Draco whispered, before leaning in to crush his lips against Harry’s.

Even after three months of dating and working together, Harry was still thrown through a loop every time the blond kissed him. He’d gone seven years after the war doing nothing but concentrating on Animagi—either trying to work on his form or helping others that were stuck in their animal forms—and ignoring the fact that he had no personal life to speak of, so now every kiss was like the first one. Butterflies took up residence in his stomach and his knees grew almost too weak to keep him upright. His dormant libido would kick in and demand immediate attention. Harry would have to pull away from the other man and remind himself that it was more than just sexual attraction between them.

Not that there wasn’t. If anything, it made him realize that all those years of fighting and obsessive behaviour towards one another during Hogwarts and the war were all setting the scene for some explosive, mind-boggling sex. If he could trust Draco enough to be with him that way, then he was pretty sure that that was what was in store for him. Yet, he hadn’t let it get that far after their first date. And what did it say about their relationship if Harry had come to trust Draco with his life, but not his body?

Except that now he _was_ ready to see if he could trust their relationship enough to take it to the next step. Draco _had_ proven that he wanted more than just to fuck Harry and then disappear into the night. After every time Harry pulled away, Draco would just take a step back, close his eyes, and frown in concentration. Then, when he opened his grey eyes, they’d be clear and earnest, but there was always a little hint of sadness in them. It broke Harry’s heart to see his… _partner_ so upset, but…

He quickly quashed that train of thought as Draco’s tongue ran across his lips, seeking entrance that Harry quickly granted. He could feel the blond’s light stubble rub against his cheek and chin as he wrapped his arm around Draco’s neck while their tongues fought for dominance. He allowed Draco to slide a knee between his thighs so that he could feel how excited the blond was getting. The power of that simple realization made Harry lightheaded and he reluctantly pulled away from Draco to drag in breaths before he passed out.

“ _Merlin_ , Draco…” he panted, causing his soon-to-be lover to chuckle breathily. Harry felt his knees weaken again and his desire spike to new heights.

“Yes, I _know_ ,” the blond rasped, leaning his head down to place light kisses to Harry’s jaw and neck. “I want you, terribly, but I can wait.”

“I don’t want you to wait,” Harry replied nervously.

Draco nearly smashed their heads together with how quickly he looked up at Harry. It amused the dark-haired wizard when the blond’s forehead scrunched up in thought. “You’re absolutely sure about this?”

“Gods, yes,” Harry whispered as he felt his face redden. Draco only chuckled again, this time sounding a little dark as he pulled Harry towards the steps that lead out of the kitchen and into the rest of the house. They had just reached the top of the stairs when they heard the Floo rush to life and Hermione’s panicked voice called out.

“Harry, Malfoy, I need you over here, _right away_!”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Draco snarled. “Best friend or no, Harry, if this isn’t important, I’m hexing Granger into next year.”

“At this point, I think I’ll help you,” Harry shot back as he stomped into the kitchen to find out what was going on.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco stifled the urge to yell at Granger as he and Harry stepped out of the Floo and into the Weasleys’ home. One look at the witch’s face, and Draco felt the cold hand of fear move to grasp his heart. She seemed as if one wrong word would set her to crying hysterically. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Rose?”

“She’s fine, Malfoy,” Granger said shakily before turning to Harry. “You need to head out to the trap on the north side of the property.”

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, dashing forward to take one of Granger’s hands. “Where’s Ron?”

“He’s out by the trap with Dean and Terry Boot,” she whispered.

“What are the Aurors doing here?” Draco asked after gathering his wits together. “There’s nothing wrong with anyone here, is there?”

“I think the two of you should go to the cage and see what you can do.” Draco watched as Granger composed herself and then grimaced. “We’d just returned home when the alarm went off that one of the traps had been sprung. Ron ran out to check to see what had set it off. When he came back, he was badly shaken. I had him call the Aurors as I went to check it out myself. It… I think the two of you _really_ need to go help.”

“O-kay,” Harry said, taking Draco’s hand and heading outside. The blond thought about pulling his hand free, as this was the first sign of public affection that Harry had ever attempted, but when he saw the sly, knowing look  flash on Granger’s face as she watched her friend, he decided to let Harry continue on leading him out towards the cage and the clump of other men.

The cages were actually an ingenious idea and creation of Harry himself. They reacted to the magical signature of an Animagus and snapped into place around the witch or wizard until Harry himself was available to release the locks. Having been the _guest_ of the invention more than once, Draco knew the fatal flaw. While they did snap into place around the wizard and adjusted to the size of the creature it would house, they could not prevent Apparation.

Then again, after researching the subject, Draco appeared to be the only Animagus who could still Apparate in his animal form. And he’d used that to his advantage when trying to bring Harry to him and acknowledge what was between the two of them.

His first incarceration in the cages—which Harry had yet to name—was also responsible for the fondness he felt for the child of Ron and Hermione Weasley. Rose had taken an instant liking to him and refused to leave his side unless force was used. She talked to him about any and every thing that was important in her three-year-old mind, from her favourite colour and game to the fact that she wasn’t too crazy about one of her cousins because of a stolen toy. Besides, she was perhaps the most adorable thing he’d ever laid eyes on. He dared even his father to withstand the little girl’s charms, Weasley spawn or not.

He could hear his lover’s goddaughter pound and flail against the window of her bedroom, which sadly faced the area where the men were currently standing. Looking up, he could see that Granger hadn’t spelled the glass black, meaning the child had a great view of what was going on down in the yard. Her high-pitched voice could be heard screaming out for Harry and Draco as her little fists shook the glass pane in front of her. Biting back the acerbic words he wanted to spit into Weasley’s face, Draco instead turned, blacked out the window himself and placing a Muffling Charm around the group so the little girl’s wails could be ignored by the men while they worked and talked.

“Thanks, Malfoy,” Weasley said quickly, and if Draco had been in a generous mood, he would have said it was even truly thankful.

“I didn’t do it for you, Weasley,” he responded sharply. “I don’t think that Rose needs to see whatever it is that has Granger and you so upset. She’s only a child, after all. Why did you call us here? Granger refused to tell us what was going, only that we should come out here because something sprung one of the cages.” He looked beyond the ginger-haired nuisance and took a good look at the Animagus cage. He quickly wished he hadn’t.

Blood and orange fur covered whatever animal was supposed to be in the cage. In fact, there was more red and pink showing than the poor creature’s fur. Draco could see a dark red lump near what appeared to be an elbow and quickly determined that it was the poor creature’s heart. Alongside the gruesome discovery were the other organs and the ropey intestines. “Do you know if it was human or animal before all this happened?”

“It appears to be an orangutan,” one of the Aurors said, capturing Draco’s attention from the messy scene behind the metallic bars. He was dark-skinned and tall, but lean. He vaguely remembered the boy as someone from Hogwarts in his year. A blond with an Irish brogue plastered to his side flashed in Draco’s mind and he could almost _see_ the Gryffindor ties around their throats.

The Gryffindor Auror’s name was Thomas, Dean Thomas, if he recalled correctly, and the man had been a decent artist, so the fact that he was an Auror now was a bit sad. He also remembered the man with Ginevra Weasley during their sixth year before Harry had dated the girl briefly. _Curiouser and curiouser as to how he ended up as a Ministry peon…_

Thomas continued, “We were going to try to determine if it was a missing animal from a Muggle zoo or if we’re dealing with an Animagus, but Harry’s cages are too clever by half.”

“Yeah, well, Dean, I can’t have some Auror ‘helping’ me out by opening the cages and letting trapped Animagi free, now can I?” Harry said, giving his former Housemate a warm and teasing smile that made Draco instantly jealous. That was _his_ smile, dammit.

“Well, Potter, can you open the cage so that we can check the poor lump in there for a magical signature?” the other Auror—this one had to be Terry Boot according to Granger, who had been in Ravenclaw back in school—asked.

“Yeah, give me a minute,” Harry responded before turning to look at Draco. His bright green eyes still held a _tiny_ smoulder in them that made Draco’s temperature rise a few degrees. “Do you want to try and open this one? You should be keyed to the locks. I made sure last week while you were dealing with Mr Stonebrook.”

“Yes,” Draco answered after he’d swallowed discretely. He was glad for his decision to wear looser robes that morning.

“I don’t think so, Potter,” Boot snapped, shooting Draco a look that would have peeled paint. “This is an official investigation and we can’t have _questionable_ individuals mucking about and causing havoc.”

Thomas looked at his partner and sighed deeply. “Terry, it’ll be fine if Mal–”

“No, it won’t,” Boot shot back. “Malfoy’s compromised and always will be. No way can we let his name get onto a report that any _honest_ and _decent_ citizen might read.”

“You’re not being fair, Boot,” Harry shot at their old schoolmate with a remarkable growl. “Draco paid for his crimes, more than you’ll understand, and in case you haven’t noticed there’s a dead _body_ in that cage that you need to find out who it used to be. Who _cares_ who opens the ruddy thing?”

“The _Ministry_ cares, Potter, even if you don’t.” Boot puffed up his thin chest and tried to give Harry an intimidating look that only made him look completely ludicrous, despite his spotless scarlet Auror robes. “Malfoy and his family have always been up to something. You used to be the _first_ person to agree with that.”

“Yes, well, Boot, I’m now the _first_ person to say that they’re attempting to be productive members of society, and have been doing so since they were cleared by the _Wizengamot_ ,” Harry said with an impressive sneer. Draco could only assume that some of his personality was rubbing off on the other man. Too bad he wasn’t doing more right then. “Besides, you’re here to do your _bloody_ job, and we’ve only come to make it easier. I’m sure that you can get some Unspeakable to open it up back at the Ministry building, if you beg prettily. I doubt they’ll avoid blowing the whole thing up though.”

Draco bit back on a snicker, but it seemed that Thomas had no problem laughing at his Auror partner. Neither did Weasley, for that matter. Thomas did, however, stop Boot from attacking Harry and dragged him over to whisper lowly about “exacerbating the situation” and “abuse of private citizens.” It amused him to no end to have two Gryffindors defending his honour to a Ravenclaw.

“While Dean has that prat distracted, go ahead and release the locks, Draco,” Harry said quietly.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Harry?” Weasley asked just as quietly, keeping his blue eyes on the other two men in his yard as they argued. “Who knows what Boot’ll do once he catches on?”

“Draco is my _partner_ , Ron, and he’s got to learn how to open the cages at some point. Besides, it’s not as if Terry can really stop him from doing it, seeing as how it would _take_ an Unspeakable or two to open the bloody thing without either of us to help. I made sure of that after the little drama he put me through back when.”

“If you’re sure,” the redhead responded. He was obviously still not convinced, but he also knew better than to push his friend when he was already so upset. Draco gave him mental points in his favour for showing his maturity at _finally_ learning to not press things when Harry was pissed.

Shaking his head to clear it of any distracting thoughts, Draco concentrated on the steel cage so that he could find the magical locks.  He found where the magic neatly joined and focused as hard as he could on the large blocks of energy. He could feel Harry’s magical signature all over the contraption and another, faint trace that he’d encountered before. Without thinking, Draco stepped back as the steel seemed to disintegrate right before their eyes with a loud _snap_. The sound caught the attention of the two Aurors, who ran back over.

“What did you _do¸_ Malfoy?” Boot yelled.

“Shut up, Boot,” Weasley snarled. Draco looked over in shock at his former nemesis to see that his face was beginning to flush in anger until it nearly matched the shade of his frightening hair. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing—on his behalf.  “You’re an idiot, and don’t think I won’t be telling Minster Shacklebolt about your attitude the entire time you’ve been on my property. Dean, mate, your partner’s a pompous arse.”

Draco looked at Harry, who was smiling fondly at his best friend. Perhaps Granger and Harry _hadn’t_ been too far off when they said that Weasley would eventually come around and at least be civil to Draco. He hadn’t wanted to call either of them liars, since they knew the redhead so well, but he now realised that he _couldn’t_ dispute their knowledge of the man when the proof it was staring him right in the face. The moment was ruined when Weasley opened his mouth again. “Don’t think I did that for you, Malfoy. I just can’t stand to see stupidity when it’s right in front of me.”

 _Well, then, I suggest you don’t look in the mirror,_ Draco thought acidly as he stared down at the dead body. Slowly, it seemed to reshape itself back into a human form, confirming the fact that it had been a wizard.  Before it had been ripped to shreds, that is. Something odd about the man’s mouth and stringy brown hair triggered a memory for the blond and he leaned over to get a better look. It was then that the dead man’s identity clicked into place. “Harry, I believe that we know this man,” he said calmly despite the intense desire to be ill he was currently experiencing.

“What? Who is it?” Harry asked, looking down at the dead Animagus as well. “Oh, bloody hell.”

“Who is it, Harry?” Thomas asked, ignoring Boot’s angry mutterings about procedure and disgusting Slytherins. “Do you know this man?”

“Mr John Stonebrook,” Draco answered. “We just assisted him last week with his Animagus form. An orangutan, now that I think about it.”

“When was the last time you saw him, Malfoy?” Thomas asked. His voice was as hard as stone, making Draco look up and actually take note of how the dark-skinned man was glaring at him. “This man was a suspected Death Eater sympathizer. He’s been under heavy surveillance for months now.”

Draco snorted at the Auror’s statement. “Do you not see the irony in that little speech? If he’s been under surveillance, then you’d know the last time I saw Stonebrook was Wednesday last, with Harry, when we were checking in on him after assisting him with his Animagus form. He’d contacted us; not the other way around.”

Boot, predictably, jumped all over that opportunity. “So you admit that you had contact with a _known_ Death Eater sympathizer, Malfoy?”

Draco threw up his hands in frustration. “You know what, Boot, if you want to question me about this, I suggest you actually take me in, but I _will_ be contacting my father and my solicitor. I’m _done_ with your stupidity.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry paced around the Ministry as he waited for Lucius, Narcissa, and the Malfoy family solicitor. It had been an hour since Harry had sent the message to the Manor, and when Narcissa had received the information, he was sure that things were going to start happening soon. He had been wrong.

As he made the latest in his angry trips around the waiting room of the Magical Law Enforcement’s floor, Hermione and Ron whispered to one another from where they sat in the uncomfortable chairs. Their decision to follow him and Draco back to the Ministry after leaving Rose with Molly and Arthur at the Burrow had actually stunned Harry momentarily. It had made it obvious that Ron was firmly on Harry’s side and was ready to acknowledge that Draco wasn’t going away any time soon. The dark-haired wizard knew it was just a matter of time before Ron’s restrictions on Draco’s time with Rose would disappear completely.

“Harry, you did contact Malfoy’s parents, yes?” Ron asked for the fourth time since he and Hermione had shown up.

“ _Yes,_ ” Harry answered exasperatingly. “Narcissa assured me that she, Lucius, and their solicitor would be here as soon as possible.”

“Well, I sent a message to Kingsley as well,” Hermione added. “I’m sure that someone will show up soon.”

“Not soon enough,” Harry snarled. He wanted Draco _out_ of here and back with him _now._ It was half-ten at night and the ardour that Harry and his soon-to-be lover had shared earlier that evening was nothing but a fond memory. He really wanted to blame Hermione, but it wasn’t her fault that someone had murdered an Animagus that he and Draco had visited recently. Nor was it Ron’s fault that the murderer had chosen their property to dump the body. Nor was it Draco’s fault that the man who had been murdered was a former Death Eater sympathiser.

It _was_ Terry and Dean’s fault that the evening had ended like this, however. And Dean would be lucky if Harry ever spoke to the dark-skinned man again after this little stunt. Boot, on the other hand, could rot for all Harry cared. He hadn’t liked him at school, and this had done little to change his opinion that the former Ravenclaw was a bigoted, uncompromising, unchanging arsehole.

“You will do no one any good should you attack right now, Mr Potter,” Narcissa Malfoy said as she and her husband entered the waiting room, accompanied by a tall, lean, brown-haired man whom Harry found remotely familiar. “Allow me to introduce you to Draco’s personal solicitor as of last month.” She waved the relatively handsome man—if one went for the mousy brown-haired look, which Harry most assuredly did _not_ —forward to stand beside her. “I believe that you may remember him—Theodore Nott.”

It was then that it clicked for Harry. Nott was a Slytherin, one of Draco’s former dorm mates. He also had a father who’d died in the war as a Death Eater, one who’d been with Lucius all those years back at the Department of Mysteries and the graveyard in Little Hangleton. He’d been relatively quiet back at Hogwarts, only speaking in classes, but Harry recalled that he’d been third in their year for studies—right behind Hermione and Draco, respectively. “Nott,” Harry said, holding out his hand for the other man to shake if he so chose.

“Potter,” Nott said coolly, taking Harry’s hand in an equally cool, but firm, grasp before dropping it. “How long have they had Draco in questioning?”

“About an hour and a half now,” Harry answered, running a hand through his messy hair in frustration. “It seems that Stonebrook was a sympathiser of your former master, Lucius, and they’ve taken it upon themselves to assume something.” He let out a gusty breath. “At this point, I’m not even sure what it is they suspect Draco of doing.”

“And what have you attempted to do in the meantime, Mr Potter?” Lucius asked. His voice was smooth, inflectionless, and cold—something that Draco had never managed to achieve and Harry was suddenly very grateful for that fact. “I cannot imagine you sitting here idle while my son is in Auror custody.”

“Hermione has contacted Minister Shacklebolt, and Ron and I have signed affidavits from the entire Weasley family that he was at the Burrow for dinner tonight with all of us,” Harry answered hotly, still trying to process the _almost_ compliment from Draco’s father.

“Sorry I’m late, Harry,” Kingsley Shacklebolt said as he glided smoothly into the room from the direction of the lifts. “I came as soon as I could, but Moira was adamant about something or other tonight.”

Harry flashed the former Auror a smile that made Lucius eye him warily. “No problem, Kingsley. I’d like to file a complaint of harassment against one of your Aurors, if you don’t mind.”

He watched the taller man sigh as he ran a big hand across his dark face in frustration. “Which one?”

“Terry Boot. Draco Malfoy and I were called over to the Weasleys’ cottage to open one of our Animagus cages, and Boot immediately became belligerent. It was only the fact that his partner, Auror Thomas, held him back that he didn’t physically attack Draco.”

“I would like to file harassment charges against Auror Boot as well on behalf of my client,” Nott said.

“Who’s your client, Mr Nott?” Kingsley asked. Harry could hear the strain in the Minister’s voice, and he felt bad for his old comrade and friend, but he knew that no one there was going to back down where Boot was concerned.

“Draco Malfoy, specifically, and the Malfoy family in general,” Nott answered without hesitation. “Auror Boot came to Malfoy Manor when my client’s parents were having teas for eligible partners for their son. He was rude and nosy. He downright insulted Mr Malfoy Sr during a debate. He had to be forcibly removed from the property by a house-elf as the tea dispersed. And since then, he’s been sending threatening letters to Mrs Malfoy.”

“You can produce these letters?” Kingsley asked, even though everyone knew that Nott wouldn’t have brought them up if he couldn’t. Slytherins were nothing if not cunning little things.

“Of course,” the solicitor said, using his wand to open a briefcase that Harry hadn’t noticed before as he brought out a rather thick stack of parchment. “We have taken the liberty of making copies should they be needed later.”

Harry interpreted the former Slytherin’s words mentally. _If you try to act as if we didn’t have this discussion, I have copies that I will send to the_ Prophet _and every other paper in the country to make you rue the day you crossed me._ Sometimes, Harry really did _appreciate_ the more subtle approach, not that he was known for _following_ that course of action.

Kingsley’s face grew grimmer and grimmer as he read the parchments. “Robards and I will be addressing this issue. I expect you both will be coming to file the harassment charges in the morning?”

“Yes,” Harry and Nott said simultaneously. Harry flashed the brown-haired man a quick, friendly smile before turning his attention back to the Minister of Magic.

“Do you know who is supposedly interviewing Malfoy then?” Kingsley asked Hermione warily.

“I told them to get another team,” Hermione said, getting up to stand beside Harry. “I don’t know if they actually _listened_ to me, since I’m only a prosecutor, but if Thomas and Boot are conducting the interview, you can bet that I’ll be hauling them before the review committee by lunch tomorrow.”

“I’m going to check and see what is happening with Mr Malfoy,” Kingsley said. “Mr Nott, you’re welcome to join me to help your client.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Five minutes after Theodore Nott and Minister Shacklebolt walked into the interrogation room where Thomas and Boot had left him with a pair of even _more_ incompetent arses, Draco and his solicitor were walking out. The blond stopped as he saw his parents, lover, and his lover’s best friends waiting for him. “Well, this is an unlikely grouping,” he drawled. He couldn’t help but smirk as he saw the muscles of his father’s jaw twitch involuntarily. “Been waiting long, then?”

Harry was the first to move up to him, but the other man stopped before touching him. They hadn’t engaged in many public displays up until that moment, but Draco found he couldn’t stand _not_ touching Harry after spending so long with idiots and he wrapped his lover in a strong hug. “You’re okay?” Harry whispered. Draco placed his head on Harry’s shoulder after nodding, ignoring the heavy feel of his father’s eyes on his back.

“I want to go home,” he replied.

“Oh,” Harry said, sounding disappointed. Draco stopped him before he could step away. “Draco?”

“With you, idiot,” he whispered.

“Oh.” He could almost _hear_ the stupid grin that Harry would be wearing and looked up to find it was even more endearing than he’d imagined.

“Give me a few minutes with Theo and my parents and we can leave, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry answered. Draco let him go and watched as he went to stand over by his friends to talk to them. Then, he turned his attention to his parents and solicitor/old school friend.

Lucius was the first to recover. “They did not mishandle you, did they, Draco?” his father asked with a predatory tone.

“No, Father, they didn’t dare,” Draco answered with a similar note in his voice. “Thank you for getting here as soon as you could. You too, Theo.”

“Yes, well, Pansy wasn’t so happy to have me leave almost as soon as we got home from dinner with her parents, but she was a bit better when she heard that you were in trouble,” his friend said with a snide grin.

Draco had to swallow a snort of derision. Pansy Parkinson-Nott had _not_ taken the fact that Lucius had written her off as an acceptable wife for Draco after the war very well. Not even her swift marriage and production of an heir to Theo had lessened the woman’s resentment. His once-best friend now relished to hear about any little horrible thing that happened to him so that she could send him scathing letters, demeaning everything about him. And sadly, she knew enough due to their long acquaintance to make her letters a little painful. The last letter, when his parents had been putting on the teas and dinners that eventually drew Harry to the Manor, had gone so far as to insult his technique in bed and his father’s sanity. Luckily, Draco had long since written the cow off as bitter and petty, especially since he now had a handsome and powerful partner at his side.

“Yes, well, I do so _live_ to make Pansy’s year, Theo,” Draco snarked. “Mother, are you all right?”

Narcissa blinked slowly before giving her only child an easy, but small, smile. “Yes, my love, I’m fine,” she said, letting her blue eyes rest thoughtfully on Harry, who stood almost directly behind Draco. “Your choice of Mr Potter is _very_ satisfactory, you know.”

A low blush crept up Draco’s neck, despite his struggle to control his emotions. It wouldn’t do to have his parents knowing every thought he had about his very “satisfactory” choice. “Thank you, Mother.”

“Are you returning to the Manor, son?” Lucius asked brusquely. Despite the curt tone of his voice, his father’s concern was shining from his grey eyes.

“No, Father, I shall be escorting Harry back to his home.” Draco raised one eyebrow at his father in question. The older man just shook his head. “In the morning, Harry, Theo and I will be filing the complaints. Did Harry tell you that John Stonebrook was murdered sometime this evening?”

“Yes, we were informed,” his mother answered quickly. “It is a shame that you and Harry should have seen him so recently. It is a very curious coincidence.”

Something about the way that Narcissa said that struck a chord in the back of Draco’s mind. It _was_ curious that Stonebrook, who had been under Ministry surveillance for a while now, should turn up dead so soon after Harry and Draco had had business with him. However, Draco also knew that there was nothing for him to do at this point and that eventually the Aurors would find the killer, or Granger would have all of their balls in the glass jar she kept on the desk in her study, if they were lucky. “I suppose so, Mother, but that is for the Ministry to solve at this point.”

“Yes, I believe you are correct, my son,” she responded coolly. “You and Harry will be coming for lunch tomorrow, yes?”

“Tea, perhaps,” Draco said, looking over at Harry, who was smiling and laughing with his best friends as if he didn’t have a care in the world. The blond felt the familiar jealousy as he watched the Gryffindors interact until Harry turned around and his green eyes fastened onto Draco’s own grey ones. They were alight with the promise of what had been interrupted. Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe properly. With a shake of his head, Draco turned back to his parents. “Mother, Father, if nothing else, I will come over for tea in the afternoon to discuss things further with you both.”

Lucius waved him off nonverbally with a negligent waggle of his hand and Draco spared a quick smile for his mother and friend before heading over to stand behind Harry. The shorter man seemed to melt back into Draco’s chest as the blond wrapped his arms around his ribs. After placing a tiny kiss to the nape of Harry’s neck, Draco backed off. It was more affection than they’d shared in public until then, and Draco found that he was very willing to wait for Harry to finish talking to his friends, while keeping his hands on the other man’s shoulders. “And you’re sure that Molly’s not upset that you had to leave Rose with her to help me and Draco?”

“No, Harry,” Granger said with a fond, but exasperated smile. “She was only too happy to help her new favourite blond.” The woman’s brown eyes flashed up towards Draco, who could only shake his head fondly. “Trust me. Molly was completely ecstatic to take Rose herself. I’ve been thinking recently that she’s lonely with no one but Arthur to keep her company in that big house day after day now that Ginny’s moved out.”

“On that note, ‘Mione, we need to go pick up our daughter and put her to bed, finally,” Weasley said quietly. It was then that Draco realised that the other man’s eyes were drifting down to stare at his hands as they rested on Harry’s shoulders. “You know, I’m sure that Harry and Malfoy have a long day ahead of them tomorrow.”

“I was sure that you and Granger were exaggerating things when you said that Weasley had grown up, but I see now that it’s possible that the two of you are correct,” Draco whispered into Harry’s ear when the other couple had left, earning him a delightful little shiver from the man in his arms.

“There’s a first time for everything, Draco,” Harry answered lightly.

“Merlin, I hope so,” Draco said, placing a kiss on the shell of Harry’s cute ear. “Is ten in the morning too early for you?”

“Hm? What?” Harry asked sluggishly, sounding as if he’d been drugged. It was an intensely _satisfying_ sound to Draco. “I’m used to you getting to the house before then, you know.”

“No, you great prat,” Draco said fondly. “I was asking if ten was too early to meet up with Theo to file the complaints.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine. So long as _you_ don’t have a problem with it, that is.” The little blush on Harry’s cheeks was even more endearing than the way he’d sunk into Draco’s arms earlier.

“Good; just let me tell Theo and then we can leave.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry was sure that he _had_ been more nervous than before this particular moment, but he was having trouble recalling exactly when that was. He and Draco had just arrived back at Grimmauld Place, but the blond had excused himself to the loo while Harry was left to wait. He was _not_ good with waiting. It left him with too much time to brood, and brooding for Harry was a _bad_ thing. Hermione had once told him that it was part of his problem and why he should have been grateful for the fact that he’d been put into Gryffindor over Slytherin. She’d also mentioned that he wasn’t that good with tact either, but he _had_ realised over the years that he could get away with telling excessively rude people _precisely_ what he thought simply because he was the Boy Who Lived.

However, he didn’t abuse that new found power. It went against his Gryffindor nature to be unnaturally cruel. He left that to the likes of Lucius Malfoy and the other “former” Death Eaters. The only people who really warranted his true, nasty opinions were the reporters who hounded him for ages over every little decision he made until they realised that he wasn’t going to engage in any scandalous behaviour. He didn’t drink or do drugs. He wasn’t going to sleep around or suddenly turn straight and start adding to the population of Wizarding Britain every nine months. He just wanted to work, visit with his friends and family, and _maybe_ have _one_ lover.

And until he’d picked Draco Malfoy to _be_ that potential lover, the reporters had left him alone and respected his privacy, in as much as they allowed any celebrity privacy. Every once in a while, he’d gotten a request to talk about his work or some of his clients, and depending upon the way the request was worded, he’d given in or told them to get lost. It really had helped his reputation as a business man—especially since he never disclosed any personal or embarrassing facts about his clients. Yet, now, he’d found out that the reporters were no longer interested in leaving him alone.

And in a way, he could understand their attraction to the situation. All-around Hero and Saviour of the Wizarding world hooks up with the son of the man who attempted to kill the Hero on more than one occasion? It was salacious to the umpteenth degree. Only the fact that Rita Skeeter had retired years before saved Harry from some of the more blatant lies and innuendos that _could_ have been used against him. Not that the others hadn’t tried, but none of them had the same kind of ability to twist the facts to make a situation that was innocent appear to be completely wretched. For that, Harry was _infinitely_ grateful.

Even still, he would have loved it if they papers weren’t printing stories that Draco was secretly plotting to kill Harry while he slept or using spells and potions to keep his attention. The public was _still_ unaware that Harry could throw off the _Imperius_ curse.

The sound of the door opening had Harry jumping up from his sitting room couch, heart beating madly in his throat. “Oh, Draco,” he said, inwardly wincing at the sound of his voice cracking. “You surprised me!”

The blond raised one eyebrow and gave Harry a wry smile as he crossed his arms and leaned against the room’s doorframe. “You’re rather jumpy, Harry,” Draco teased. “Were you using all of your lovely brain cells to think up what you’re going to say in your complaint in the morning?”

“No, you bloody git,” Harry shot back playfully. _It’s stupid to be so nervous around Draco. It’s not as if he’s going to do anything to injure me. Anymore._ “Sorry, I was just thinking about what kind of horrible stories are going to be printed in the morning once they hear about the murder and how close the two of us were to the victim.”

“Oh, yes, I can see the headlines now: _Horrible Death Eater Turns Saviour into Hellish Murderer_. I’m _so_ looking forward to it so that Theo can earn his horridly large salary by filing lawsuits against anyone stupid enough to try.”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle. “Think Nott would mind taking my case too? I don’t think I could have ‘Mione help much anymore, since she’s already busy with her own cases and dealing with the Ministry in her off time. There aren’t a lot of people that I can trust, you know.”

Draco grinned as he came up and put his arms around Harry’s waist. “I’m sure that you can afford his fees, so that’s not an issue. And he knows that if he breathes a word of anything personal, the things that I and Father could do to him would carry along his line to his children’s children. Besides, it would make Pansy ecstatic to know that Harry _Sodding_ Potter was inadvertently paying for her shopping sprees in Paris and Milan.”

Harry snorted and rested his head against Draco’s broad shoulder. He was very glad that his lover was nearly five inches taller than him. It made things like this very possible. “I wasn’t aware that Nott was hurting for money so badly that Parkinson had to tap into their recent funds. I thought that both of them were relatively well-off, considering Lucius let you be friends with them for so long.”

“I don’t want to talk about Theo and Pansy,” Draco murmured. “I don’t really care about their finances. I’m tired. I spent a good portion of my day with the Weasley brood and a larger portion than I’d like to remember of my evening spent in the company of idiots masquerading as government officials. I just want to go to bed and hold you in my arms.”

Harry stiffened in the blond’s hold, making him sigh heavily. “Harry, I’m too _exhausted_ to do anything but sleep. Besides, if it’s that big of a deal, we could just get Winky to set up the guest room for me. It would be no huge hardship.”

Harry looked up at the blond and noticed for the first time that he was starting to get dark rings around his grey eyes. _Okay, so he_ is _pretty tired. It’s been a long day, what with Rose in the afternoon, the Weasley family for dinner and the Aurors’ stupidity tonight. I can’t believe it was less than three hours ago that we were about to head up to my room for things_ other _than sleep._ He took a deep breath and kissed Draco on the cheek. “Okay, let’s go up to bed then.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Despite the fact that he had been lusting after Harry Potter since he’d had a libido worth mentioning, Draco didn’t want to actively ruin his chance at a meaningful relationship with the other man by forcing intimacy. Merlin help him, though! All he wanted to do was throw Harry down and shag him senseless anytime they were close, but with the way he’d tensed in his arms, he knew that anything too forward would set their relationship back a great deal. Their first sexual encounter had pushed all boundaries between them—considering it had been on their first date and while they were both in their giant cat forms—so, he knew he’d have to back down gracefully this time. It wasn’t difficult, considering how tired he was.

Instead, Draco had settled for sleeping with the former Gryffindor in his arms, his soft snores making his wild and dark fringe flutter over the famous scar. It was that comforting sound and the feeling of all-encompassing warmth plastered to his side that finally woke the blond up a little after sunrise. He tried to remember what they’d done before passing out, but his memory was rather fuzzy. He cracked one grey eye open and looked over to see Harry’s relaxed and sweet face turned up at the corners into a _very_ seductive smile, but it wasn’t until he let out a low groan that Draco realised just _what_ kind of dream the other man was having.

Instantly, his was rock-hard and the way that Harry was rubbing against his body wasn’t really helping. _Merlin, he’s going to kill me_ before _we manage to actually have sex,_ Draco thought sourly as the fabric of his borrowed sleep pants moved up and down his thigh along with Harry’s hand. _Alecto Carrow running starkers through the Manor! Lord Voldemort kissing Snape! Moaning Myrtle trying to kiss me!_

The last one did the trick. He was as flaccid as the day he was born. Evidently his mind remembered all the time he’d spent in the girls’ loo on the fourth floor of Hogwarts during sixth year all too well. Unfortunately, that was the moment that Harry chose to moan again. “Draco…”

Draco was hard again and his eyes had widened to nearly painful levels, especially when Harry’s hand brushed his thigh. “Harry, wake up,” he managed to squeak out. “ _Please._ ”

Green eyes flickered open and when they had focused properly, Harry bolted straight up, his face and neck a shade of red that would have made Dumbledore’s phoenix proud. “Oh, sorry, I, uh, didn’t mean to, um…”

Draco sat up and placed two fingers gently over Harry’s lips to silence the other man. “No harm’s done,” he said, surprised at his own calm, considering his horrid state of arousal. “Well, nothing that can’t be easily remedied with a few minutes in the shower.”

“Only a few minutes?” Harry asked, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. “I’m having second thoughts about things now.”

“I hate you,” Draco spat, half-serious as he moved carefully to get out of the bed. He knew that even the short walk to Harry’s en-suite bathroom would be painful considering just _how_ turned on he was, but even that was better than staying next to the reason he was so hard that he’d explode with just a single, well-placed touch like a firework, if he was going to be a stupid, bloody prat.

“Draco, don’t go,” Harry said contritely. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew I was only teasing.”

The blond turned around to stare at Harry, seeing that he appeared to be genuinely apologetic. All of his righteous anger drained out of him and his erection lessened to a bearable level almost immediately. “Fine,” he responded, sitting on the bed next to the Boy Who Lived. He was surprised when Harry curled up next to him. It seemed that the admission the night before that they were both ready to take their relationship further had made Harry more tactile. Not that Draco was about to complain, not at all. “What’s this?”

“This is me trying to make up for being a tease,” Harry murmured against Draco’s chest. “How did you sleep?”

“Fairly well, I suppose. Better than I have in the last two weeks, if you must know.” Harry’s soft and wild curls tickled Draco’s chin as he laughed quietly. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just that two weeks ago is when we returned from helping Stonebrook. You stayed here and we fell asleep on the couch in the sitting room.”

“Hm,” Draco vocalised as he leaned over to place a kiss to the crown of Harry’s head. “I wouldn’t say that’s so much funny as is it coincidental.”

“I like that you sleep better next to me,” Harry whispered huskily. “I think it’s a rather good sign.”

“Sign of what?” Draco asked as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s body, pulling him until they were bare chest-to-bare chest. He leaned his head down to begin gently nibbling on Harry’s neck, making the dark-haired man’s breathing hitch.

“That you should stay here more often,” Harry said between sighs and moans. “I know that it would make me happier.”

“I’ll consider it,” Draco purred as he began sucking on the patch of skin right above his lover’s jugular vein. “Right now, I just want you.” He reinforced his statement by pushing his hips up, making his erection brush against the waistband of Harry’s thin pants and answering hard-on.

He was rewarded by a low, breathy moan and work-calloused hands that scrambled to pull his hips forward once more. He couldn’t help but chortle at Harry’s impatience. He looked up to see his lover’s face flushed and his mouth opening for another moan. “We can stop now,” he whispered. He wasn’t _really_ sure if he could, but he _thought_ he could attempt some sort of control. “If you’re not ready,” he added when Harry glared at him.

Those green eyes he’d come to love—eyes that no else he’d ever met had—were narrowed dangerously, reminding Draco of the many fights they’d had as children at Hogwarts. “If you even _think_ about leaving this bed right now, Draco Malfoy, I’ll castrate you,” Harry spat viciously before slamming their lips together.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was as if Harry was determined to eat him alive. Teeth, tongue and lips all worked together to get Draco to submit to his will, and for a moment, the blond let Harry think he’d win. When sharp, perfect teeth sunk into his lower lip a little _too_ harshly and drew blood, Draco reacted by pushing Harry off of him, making the other man fall to the mattress on his back. “I would _never_ dream of it, Harry,” he replied before diving in for a kiss of his own.

He used the kiss as a distraction to pull Harry’s arms over his head, so that he could hold them down with one arm while he slowly pushed down the loose pyjama pants and skimpy boxer briefs his lover had worn to bed the night before. Draco slowly dragged his mouth from Harry’s kiss-bruised lips to inspect his new toy.

While not exactly the largest—or the smallest—cock he’d ever had the pleasure of seeing, Harry’s was definitely wider than Draco remembered any of his previous male lovers ever being. Truth be told, while he could only assume that Harry was around the seven-and-a-half inch range or so length-wise, he appeared to be something like two-and-a-half inches around. Draco had to swallow the saliva that was flooding his mouth a few times as he contemplated just what he was going to do first to his virginal lover.

When Harry pushed his narrow hips up impatiently, Draco smirked to himself before surrounding the violently purpled head of Harry’s cock with his tongue and lips.

“Dra~aco,” Harry moaned heavily while the blond slowly continued to swallow him. “Yes…oh, Merlin…Fuck…so good…Draco…”

Draco could feel his jaw ache from keeping his mouth open so wide and he carefully relaxed everything. When Harry’s hips jumped up, Draco felt the thick head of the cock as it brushed the back of his throat. He had to fight the urge to gag and swallowed carefully. _It’s a good thing I learned to give a good blow job a long time before I decided that I wanted Harry, or I’d be choked to death by his fucking prick. What would Father think of that bit of news?_ He shook his head and released Harry’s hands, instead pushing Harry’s hips back flat on the mattress as he used his flattened tongue on the extremely sensitive vein on the underside of his lover’s penis.

Harry’s whole body tensed and Draco could feel his balls tighten—a sure sign that Harry was about two seconds from coming _much_ too soon. Reluctantly, Draco released Harry with a _pop_ and looked up into darkened, lust-blown, green eyes. Harry’s chest was heaving and his face was flushed spectacularly. “Do you want me to make you come, Harry?” he asked huskily.

“Yes,” Harry whined. “Please, Draco, don’t tease me.”

“You mean like you’ve been teasing me all morning?” Draco said as he leaned over to suck on Harry’s pert nipples. “It would only be fair, my dear Harry. Don’t you think? Gryffindors are all about what’s fair, right?”

“No, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” Harry answered breathlessly. “I need to…Augh, yes, Draco…I need to come. _Please!_ ”

“Well, since you beg so prettily, my lover, I suppose I shall put you out of your misery,” Draco whispered before leaning in for another intoxicating kiss. “I need lube, Harry.”

“Top drawer…beside table…” Harry panted while pushing his erection into Draco’s still clothed thighs. “Let go…Need to touch…”

Draco released Harry’s arms so that he could retrieve the lube, but found himself being flipped onto _his_ back while Harry literally ripped the clothing from both of their bodies before lying on top of Draco. At the feeling of skin on skin, both men moaned. Truthfully, it was better than anything that the blond had imagined before then. Harry’s heated flesh practically seared itself into his memory.

“Be glad that we’re not in our Animagi forms, you fucker,” Harry said, punctuating each word with a thrust of his hips. Suddenly, Harry was kneeing Draco’s legs apart. “I’m going to have you screaming my name until you can’t talk.”

Harry’s weight was comforting and familiar—something that Draco had never experienced before. When the other man shifted to retrieve the pot of lubricant—from under his pillow, not the bedside table—Draco realised that this had all been planned by his tricky lover. “You little shit,” he breathed, pulling Harry’s head down to kiss him yet again. “I ought to tie you to this bed…”

“But you won’t,” Harry growled. The sound of the lid being removed from the lubricant made the blond’s already achingly hard erection twitch in excitement. Gently, Harry traced the tight ring of muscle between Draco’s legs with slick, cold fingers. “I want you _sooooo_ fucking much.”

Draco gave Harry a lazy, self-satisfied grin before he shoved his hips up. “Prove it, Potter,” he challenged. “Shut the hell up and fuck me.”

“Pushy bottom,” Harry teased before he carefully inserted the first of his fingers into Draco’s body.

The intrusion, while welcomed, was something that Draco hadn’t experienced in a while. Not only hadn’t he been with anyone since before his birthday—over five months ago—but it had been years since he’d actually bottomed. The fact that he was allowing Harry to do so scared him a little. And with the way that his lover was being so gentle, he had to rethink the fact that Harry was a virgin.

“Are you sure…you’ve never…done this…before?” Draco asked between hisses.

“Never with anyone else,” Harry said distractedly. Draco looked down his body to find Harry staring as he began to thrust his finger in and out of the blond’s tight channel. “Read plenty and I’ve fucked myself.”

Grey eyes drank in the fact that Harry’s face was as red as a tomato. _He’s about to fuck me and he’s still so bloody shy. I don’t know whether that’s cute or annoying._ “Harry, more, now.”

He watched the other man lick his lips as he slowly added a second finger. The burn increased with the addition, but Harry expertly curled the digits as he attempted to find Draco’s prostate. An explosion went off behind Draco’s closed eyes and he let out a needy moan to let his lover know he’d succeeded. After a few more minutes of enduring Harry’s careful stimulation and preparation, Draco wrapped his legs around the other man’s slim waist and pulled him close. “If you don’t fuck me now, Harry, I’m going to turn things around again, and I don’t know if I’ll be half as gentle as you’ve been.”

“But—”

“Now! We don’t have all bloody day, Harry.”

“Merlin, you’re a fucking pushy arse,” Harry muttered as he slathered lube on his now purpled erection. A low hiss that could have been anything—Parseltongue or just a hiss of pain of actually touching himself after being hard for so long—escaped from between his clenched teeth, sending a satisfying shiver up Draco’s back, despite the fact that he felt empty devoid of Harry’s fingers. “Sometimes, I fucking _hate_ you,” he added as he placed the blunt tip of his cock against Draco’s entrance and shoved forward.

He wasn’t slow, and he didn’t wait for Draco’s body to adjust as previous lovers had. It burned and Draco could feel Harry’s desire not only to dominate him but to have every piece of him, if only for a little while. It was a heady feeling, and while it should have scared him—it had when others had tried to dominate him in his life—Draco could only enjoy every second with his new lover. “Feeling’s mutual, Potter,” he spat as he wrapped his legs tighter around the other man. “Could you please shut up now?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Preparing Draco for sex had been torture. Everything the blond did was sexy, but the groans, the writhing, and even his snarkiness made Harry have to concentrate on what he was doing so that he didn’t get too eager. However, when Draco had mentioned the fact that they had plans later, Harry had been forced to realise that he was going to have to speed things up, just like his pushy lover was demanding. With a growl, he pulled out of the hot, tight grip of Draco’s body and slammed forward, making the headboard smash into the wall behind it violently.

“Fuck, Harry, you’re a beast,” Draco teased as he buried his hands in Harry’s hair. The black-haired man responded by nearly withdrawing from his lover’s body and thrusting forward again, leaning down and taking the blond’s lips in a bruising, possessive kiss. Draco’s loud moan was swallowed as Harry continued to pound into his lover.

He’d imagined sex with the blond since their first kiss, but nothing had really prepared him for the fact that Draco’s body would be soft and hard, tight and pliable, demanding and generous. His brain was clouded by the duelling natures of their first time together. He was consumed by a haze of lust so primal that he thought he’d lose what made him a rational being.

As Draco continued to scream, pull, and scratch at Harry’s shoulders and back, Harry could feel the tightening in his balls that signified that he was soon going to come. He was having trouble breathing except in short pants. “Draco, going…to…going…to…come,” he breathed harshly.

He felt one of the blond’s hands leave gouges in his skin as it snaked its way down both of their bodies. The next thing he registered was the insistent tugging on Draco’s cock and the thrashing that his lover was doing.

After several, long moments of Harry still fucking Draco into the bed and the blond working to bring himself off, the black-haired man could hear the blond grunting deeply before they were both covered in hot, sticky semen. The extra stimulus of Draco’s ass clenching around his cock like a vice was just enough to let Harry lose what was left of his erratic control and come so violently that his vision went dark as he collapsed onto his exhausted lover.

They stayed that way—still intertwined, Harry still partially hard inside Draco’s body, gasping as if they’d run a marathon—for long, heavy moments. He could feel the other man’s hand lazily brushing through his unruly hair and he felt the desire to purr.

“I had no idea that you were a cuddler, Draco,” he said once his heart rate had calmed and his breathing evened out.

“I’m not,” Draco said around a great yawn. Harry smiled at the way the blond’s forehead scrunched up as he tried to think. “Do you think we should shower now or go back to sleep and do it later?”

“Sleep; we can shower before we leave,” Harry answered with his own yawn. He carefully exited Draco with a startling sucking sound and frowned at the way the blond winced as he did. He pulled himself up and was relieved that there was no blood. He’d read that it sometimes happened if the partners weren’t cautious enough during intercourse. He let his body fall heavily to the side of the bed he slept on and reached over to his bedside table for his familiar holly wand. Forcing his brain to focus, he cast a Cleaning Charm on both of them before curling up against his lover.

He couldn’t imagine being any more comfortable than he was at that moment. He fell back asleep with a huge smile on his face and Draco’s arm draped across his bare, raw back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They just barely made it to the Ministry’s Office of Complaints on time. Really, it had been all Harry’s fault. The lout had nearly fucked Draco raw that morning, and then he’d forgotten to set an alarm to wake them up in time for a shower, dressing and breakfast. If it hadn’t been for poor Winky popping into Harry’s bedroom to bring them food, neither man would have woken up in time. Then, the animal had pawed and mauled Draco terribly in the shower. However, he wasn’t going to complain about the hand job the other man had given him, since it had made his knees as weak as pudding and as relaxed as he’d been in years.

Theodore was waiting for them by the department’s doors, his face a carefully schooled mask of bored disinterest. The brown-haired man took out his watch as Draco and Harry approached him and scowled at his client. “Cutting it a little close, aren’t you, Draco, old boy?” His scowl turned into a lascivious grin. “Did Potter wear you out and you had to spend extra time this morning making yourself pretty?”

“Bugger off, Nott,” Draco growled, shooting his lover a glare that was immediately ignored. “It was a long night.”

“I can just imagine,” Theodore replied before turning serious. “After we file these complaints, what did the two of you have in mind for a next move?”

“Harry’s certain that the reporters are sure to get their hands on copies of them and we’d appreciate it if you’d handle any other problems that arise from the publicity,” Draco said calmly.

“Yes, I’m sure that the public’s sure to go insane about the fact that Draco and I are together now,” Harry added, rubbing his hands against his robe. No doubt he was trying to get the sweat off of his palms. “My reputation is my business now, but I don’t want to give up what the two of us have because things are going down the tank of the public realm. It’s not as if either of us _has_ to work.”

Draco’s old friend looked over Harry with a cold, calculating mask before he nodded and held out his hand. “Well, Potter, I’ll take your case. It’ll amuse Pansy even more to know that I’m not only taking Draco’s money, but yours as well. I can assume she and young Demetrius will be whisked off to Paris any day now.” He smiled as his hand was grasped by Harry and shaken. “And anything that makes my wife happy is wonderful. Besides, any time I can piss off the reporters at the _Prophet_ is a good day.”

“Now that the two of you are done bonding—in such a disgusting Hufflepuff display, by the way—might we continue with our plans for the day? I do believe that we have tea at the Manor and no doubt Granger and Weasley will want to speak to us before we see that new client we took on Friday,” Draco said with the barest of grins gracing his lips.

Theodore responded by giving him two fingers before strolling into the door of the department. Harry shook his head and followed the solicitor. Draco, highly amused, joined his lover and friend in a distasteful, but necessary, duty so that he and Harry could enjoy the rest of their day.

As soon as they entered, they were greeted by the Department Head, a Mr Steven Harker, who nearly tripped all over himself to assist the three men. Even though he was old enough to be their father, at least, the man was practically salivating every time his dull, brown eyes fell upon Harry. After the fourth time the man stared too long at Harry and his famous scar, Draco growled menacingly.

 _Harry is_ my _mate,_ he thought viciously as he stared down the pathetic paper-pusher. As those words registered in his brain, Draco was forced to sit back and take stock of his relationship with Harry Potter. _Do tigers_ have _mates? I can’t recall. And I have no idea about panthers… I’ll have to research this as soon as possible. It can’t be typical of large cat Animagi, right? I mean, I haven’t heard about it before._

“Is there something the matter, Draco?” Harry whispered as he took the blond’s hand. “You’re glaring at Harker as if you could rip him to pieces, and I think he’s about to go into a dead faint.”

“Later,” Draco said tersely before turning his attention back to the form in front of him. _Maybe I can check the books in the Manor’s library before I’m forced to talk to Granger or Headmistress McGonagall about this problem. Yes, besides, Mother would be much more understanding than either of those two Gryffindors._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry looked around the lovely sitting room in the Manor and bit back a sigh. He understood that his lover wanted to check in with his parents after last night’s detainment. That was only natural. He also understood that the elder Malfoys wanted to know just how their morning went with Nott and the Ministry. What he did _not_ understand was the way that Draco had been so tense since they’d left the Ministry or the way that the blond had whisked his mother away for a long, whispered conversation over on the other side of the room, leaving _him_ to talk to Lucius.

Needless to say, not much was said between him and the older man beyond what good manners decreed.

 _What is wrong? He’s been so distant since I said something to him in Harker’s office. I must have done something, but what?_ Fear raced up and down his spine, settling in his stomach like rancid food. _I…He’s not regretting last night or this morning, is he?_

“Mr Potter,” Lucius said, bringing Harry’s attention back to where he was. “Whatever it is that has you so anxious, I can assure that it is more than likely something that my son has imagined.”

Harry blinked at the cold, regal man sitting across from him. _Is he trying to…reassure me?_ “I don’t know what you mean,” Harry said stiffly.

“Please do _not_ play stupid with me, Mr Potter,” Lucius said with a sniff. “If there is one thing that I know, it is my son. Something has changed between the two of you since last night, and it is all on my son’s side. He is anxious over something and has more than likely refused to speak to you about it. Once he has brooded over it and worried his mother, he will speak to you.” The blond man leaned forward and poured tea for the two of them. “In the meantime, I would suggest that we partake of this excellent refreshment Narcissa has provided. It will calm your nerves, if nothing else.”

Harry sighed, seeing the sense in Lucius’s words. He was right that he understood his son well, and that Harry couldn’t really do anything until Draco came to him. _I just wish that I knew what it was so that we could talk about it_ now _, before it becomes an issue for us later._ “This will probably be the only time you’ll ever hear me say this, Lucius, but you’re right about Draco.”

The older man gave him a cold smile that didn’t quite reach his grey eyes. “I will take that as a compliment, Mr Potter.” He held out a delicate cup and saucer. “Tea?”

“Thank you,” Harry replied softly as he sat back and tried to be patient.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

No sooner had they returned back to Grimmauld Place than Winky popped up before Harry with a curtsey. “Master Harry, Winky is having a message for you from the young Mrs Weasley,” she squeaked, holding out a folded sheet of parchment.

Harry looked over at Draco, who shrugged elegantly, before he took the paper from the small creature. “Thank you, Winky,” he said as he opened it. “Don’t worry about lunch for the two of us. We’re going out again.”

“As Master wishes,” she said before Disapparating.

Harry looked down at the note from his best friend before he cursed out loud. It was then that Draco seemed to come alive and moved to his side quickly to see what had made him so upset. It was a short thing, no more than a few hastily scratched out lines, but they were enough.

_Harry and Malfoy—don’t bother coming over today. As soon as you get this, you need to go over to Neville and Ginny’s. They’ve discovered a second body in another of your traps. They’ve called the Aurors, so you’d better hurry before one of those idiots hurt themselves on the cage’s magic. ~ Hermione_

“Who in the world is doing this?” Harry nearly shouted. “I can’t believe the utter shite timing of all these murders.”

“Yes, I find that it’s really inconvenient,” Draco responded. When Harry turned to glare at his unfeeling lover, the blond had the decently to blanch a little. “What I meant is that it _is_ , of course, a tragedy that someone else was murdered, Harry. I wanted to speak to you about something that occurred this morning while we were at the Ministry.”

“Does it have anything to do with what you spoke to Narcissa about, while you left me alone with your father?” Harry asked snidely. He was still smarting from the cold way that Draco had been treating him since they’d left the Ministry.

“A little,” Draco said as he took one of Harry’s hands. The dark-haired wizard told himself that snatching his hand back would be childish and counter-productive if he wished to continue enjoying his relationship with the blond. “Harry, first, I have to apologize for the way that I reacted. Mother assures me that I’m a rude little beast for being so insensitive to your feelings and our relationship.”

The corners of Harry’s lips tipped up into an amused smile. “Well, at least your mother and I can agree on that.”

“I’m trying to be serious here, Harry,” Draco whined. “Can you at least let me?”

“Of course, but you should really hurry if there’s another cage we have to open,” Harry teased, feeling a bit better about things if Draco was being open enough with him to whine as he was. “Merlin knows what the Unspeakables will do to my cages if they are called in.”

“Fine,” the blond said harshly. “I hated the way that Harker was fawning all over you. I wanted to rip his throat out and bathe in his blood because you are _mine_.”

Harry blinked, surprised that the usually urbane Draco was actually _admitting_ to being something as _common_ as jealous. The viciousness, he’d expected that when he decided to date Draco Malfoy. Then, it clicked. “Oh…So, is that still an issue?”

“Yes,” the blond hissed. “Until we separate, I don’t want _anyone_ to stare at you like you are available to them. You’re not.” The heat radiating from Draco’s nearly-silver eyes made Harry’s heart flutter in his chest. “But that’s not really the issue. The problem is that I had the thought that you were my _mate_ , as if we were truly animals.”

 _Ah, so that’s what his problem is. Why didn’t he just_ talk _to me about it before we went to visit his parents?_ “McGonagall told me once that it was only natural that we sometimes exhibit behaviours that are closely related to those that our animal selves would. I had to talk to her about my desire to lick my hand and wipe it through my hair after I’d achieved my transformation.” He gave his beautifully insecure lover a teasing smile. “I’m sure you’ve had that as well.”

Draco gave him a small smile. “Yes, and Mother says that the fact that I have always been extremely possessive, thrown in with the fact that you are the first lover I’ve had in a while, that it was bound to show up some time or another.”

“So, you two think your behaviour was only compounded by the fact that we had sex last this morning?”

“I didn’t go so much into detail with her over that _particular_ detail, Harry. I really don’t think that she needs to know that we’re fucking. It’s not something one discusses with one’s parents.”

“Wouldn’t know, but I don’t think I’d want to talk to Molly and Arthur about you and I. That would be an extremely awkward conversation.”

“Same premise, you arse.” Draco leaned over and placed his lips against Harry’s ear. “I’m sorry that I acted that way. I don’t deserve your understanding.”

“True, but you’ll just have to work your way into doing so,” Harry quipped before turning serious. “Now, let’s head over to Nev and Gin’s to see what’s going on.” He pulled back from his lover and wondered if someone would be stupid enough to attempt to hurt him. “Once I find out who this is, I might help the Aurors take them down.”

Draco pulled in back in close with a gentle kiss. “My hero,” he whispered before Apparating the two of them to their friends’ house.

When the blond released him, he saw that everything was in chaos. The Aurors—not Boot and Dean, he noticed happily—were all but grilling Neville—who appeared ready to thrash the one who was asking the questions—while Hermione and Ron were comforting Ginny as she cried. Immediately, Harry ran over to his best friends. “What’s happened?”

“Oh, Harry, it’s terrible,” Ginny said as she threw herself bodily at him. He barely had enough time to catch her before she began sobbing once more. “Nev and I came home to…”

“Harry, they’ve found Mandy Brocklehurst in your cage,” Hermione whispered, holding back her own tears.

“Who’s that?” he asked Ron, who looked as ill as he had the night before when they’d last seen him.

“She was a Ravenclaw in our year, Harry,” Draco said as he came over. “She was Michael Corner’s best friend, if I’m not mistaken.”

“How do they know it’s her?” Harry asked, patting Ginny on the back. He remembered that his adopted sister had dated Corner back at Hogwarts and the two had remained good friends after they’d broken up. No doubt, she’s been friends with Brocklehurst as well. “I wasn’t aware that she was an Animagus.”

“She was a parakeet,” Ginny said with a sniffle, “with a bright red chest and the cutest little spots on her face in the shape of a heart on both sides.”

Harry looked over at Ron. “Mate, it’s nothing like Stonebrook. He was still in his animal form when he was killed. Mandy wasn’t quite so lucky.”

“Why are the Aurors questioning Longbottom so harshly?” Draco asked as he looked over at the group. “It’s unlikely that he’d be out to kill other Animagi, considering it’s well documented that Harry was the one who helped him with his form. Besides, it’s inherently against his character to do something so pointless.”

Ron gave a bark of nervous laughter. “I never thought I’d hear the day when you had something nice to say about Neville, Malfoy.”

“Yes, well, I’ve had a few opportunities to observe him in the last couple of years, and I understand him more than I did previously,” Draco answered stiffly. “He is beyond the fat, nervous boy he was back at Hogwarts, and I am no longer the cruel, vicious bully that I was back then. We have, both, grown up in the years since, and I am attempting to be his friend every bit as much as I am trying with you and your wife, Ronald.”

Ginny stood on her tiptoes and leaned in to whisper in Harry’s ear. “I can finally see what made you want to date him, Harry,” she pulled back with a leer that looked odd on her tear-streaked face, “besides the fact that he’s gotten hot somewhere along the line.”

He pushed his friend away from him with a grimace. “You’d better not let Draco hear you say that.”

“Let me hear what, Harry?” Draco asked carefully as he turned his attention to Harry and Ginny.

“Nothing,” the two said simultaneously, which made the blond frown. However, before he could say anything, Neville joined the others with an expression that proved that he was, indeed, more like his Animagus form of a brown bear than any of his friends actually remembered.

“I want them off of my property,” the brown-haired man growled. “I might have to hex that Coldmyer fool.”

“They’ve sent Coldmyer and Sauer, have they?” Draco said with a moue of distaste. “It could have been worse, but I’m not sure how.”

“You know them, Malfoy?” Neville asked, turning to the blond with a much friendlier expression.

“Yes, they were the Auror team assigned to my family before our trials.” He turned towards Harry. “Do you want to open the cage this time, or should I attempt to do it again and anger another set of morons? I’m sure Theo would love another reason to bill us after this morning. I think he mentioned Pansy and Paris.”

Harry sighed, feeling a headache gathering behind his eyes. “I’d better take care of this one. I don’t want to fund too many of Parkinson’s shopping trips, and I doubt Lucius would like to get another bill from Nott today.”

Draco frowned, a thoughtful expression on his face, but before Harry could ask him what was wrong, the Aurors called him over to help them with the cage.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was two days later that Draco finally made the connection between Brocklehurst and Stonebrook. Harry was in the Animagus playroom at Grimmauld Place when he Flooed into his lover’s home. He’d spent the better part of the morning talking with his father and going over a ledger that was written in the Dark Lord’s spindly script. _Seriously, the man makes Severus’s spidery notes on my Potion’s work look like Mother’s flowing Edwardian handwriting_ , he thought tiredly. “Harry?”

The dark-haired man popped up next to him, smiling childishly as the sound of his sudden Apparition made Draco scowl in annoyance. Sometimes, Harry’s positive outlook was bloody annoying. “Yes, Draco?” he asked innocently.

“I finally remembered what’s been bothering me since we visited Longbottom and the Weaslette.”

It was Harry’s turn to scowl. “I thought you were going to stop calling her that after dinner at the Burrow.”

“When she stops calling me Ferret when you’re not looking, I will grace her with the pleasure of having her actual name falling from my lips. Until such time, she will remain the Weaslette, and with good reason.”

When Harry sighed, Draco felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. If someone had told him six months ago that he’d been feeling near physical pain because Harry Potter was showing disappointment in him, he would have laughed in their face before hexing all of the hair off of their body in the most painful way he knew how. As it stood now, Draco wanted to find a way to make it up to his smaller lover. “I’m sorry, Harry. I know that you think that I should show Ginevra some sort of respect when she still goes out of her way to take the piss out of me every time we have the misfortune of running into one another, but I cannot, in good conscience, let her get away without some sort of retribution.”

“And yet, you, George, and Ron get along fairly well now,” Harry said, sitting down in one of the cushy armchairs in that particular room. “I never thought I’d see the day that you and Ron didn’t almost come to fisticuffs when you met, but you two are practically friends. And you and George are rather disgusting with the way you feed off of one another. I think if I’m not careful, he’ll lure you over to him with all the money you could make if you became his business partner.”

“There are two problems with what you just said about me and George Weasley. One, I cannot be lured away from you, not even for a whole level one vault full of Galleons. And two, George Weasley doesn’t need me as a business partner. He has his wife Angelina and his best friend, Lee Jordan, to take the place of his deceased twin. Besides, I’ve been an investor in his business since the end of the war.”

“I know,” Harry said with a little sigh. Draco took the seat next to him while he thought about what he was going to say next. “I was surprised when he fire-called me to ask if I had a problem with that, since I was the original investor. I’m not even sure what I said to him, to be honest.”  The leaned over and gave Draco a light kiss on the cheek. “So, what’s that in your hand?”

“I talked to Father about what happened with Amanda Brocklehurst. It seemed to strike some cord in him and then he and I spent the next few hours searching his study in the places that we never let the Ministry know existed after the war. We found this.” He held up the battered, dust-covered ledger. “It belonged to the Dark Lord.”

“What is it?” Harry asked, eyeing the book with a dubious look on his face. _It’s nice to see that he can learn caution, even if it_ is _years too late for it._

“It’s a list of supporters that never took the Dark Mark.” Draco opened it and turned it to one of the last written pages. “If you look closely, you can see both Stonebrook and a Reginald Brocklehurst listed.”

“So, why go after Mandy and not this Reginald person?” Harry asked intelligently.

“Because Amanda was an Animagus, as was Stonebrook, and Reginald’s daughter.” _Among other things,_ Draco thought sourly.

“So, you think that the murderer is only targeting Animagi who supported Voldemort during the war or their immediate family members?”

“There is something else that I must tell you about Amanda,” Draco said carefully.

“What?”

“During fifth year, Amanda and I _saw_ one another occasionally. We began when we were assigned a project in Ancient Runes, and the tryst continued from there.”

“So, you’re saying that you and Mandy were lovers?”

“Yes,” Draco admitted, carefully watching Harry for any reaction. “It was a long time ago, Harry, but I felt that with this information, the Ministry could attempt to implicate me in the murders.”

“Why would they do that? So what if you knew both victims? So did I.”

“Trust me when I say that they will attempt to jump to any conclusion that their puny brains will latch onto. Father told me to not tell you about my history with Amanda, but Mother and I both thought that hiding it would do more harm than good. She assures me that trust is extremely important in a relationship, as if I needed that reminder.”

“I appreciate that you told me, Draco. I really do. And it’s good to know that Lucius still condones lying to me about everything.” Harry grimaced. “Who knew about you and Mandy fucking when you were fifteen?”

 _Aside from the way he phrased that question, I can see that he’s trying to be completely objective,_ Draco thought mildly. “I’m not sure. Pansy, Theo, Blaise, Vince, Greg, the Greengrass sisters, Tracey, and a few other Slytherins; Mandy’s friends, Lisa Turpin, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Su Li, would have been told; some of the boys in both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, I’m sure.”

“And I’m not hearing a single Gryffindor listed there,” Harry quipped. “Why am I not surprised about that?”

“Yes, well, our houses weren’t on the best of terms during fifth year, if you recall correctly.”

“I’m trying to figure out how you had time to fuck Brocklehurst while you were causing so many problems for me with Umbridge.”

 _Ah, there it is. Harry may not admit to it, but he seems rather jealous of the fact that Amanda and I were lovers once upon a time._ A shiver of perverse pleasure travelled down Draco’s body at his lover’s possessive side showing. “I made time, Harry.” He leaned over to lick the smaller man’s ear. “I will do the same thing to spend time with you. Not all of us spent our teenage years fighting a madman.”

“Thank Merlin for that,” Harry breathed. “So, what are we going to do with this information?”

“I thought I would give it to Theo after you and I went through it and marked any of the Animagi that we might know.”

“You mean you want to do the Ministry’s work for them?”

“Well, if it means that they will leave the two of us alone to do our _own_ jobs, then I suppose so.” Draco opened the ledger to the newer pages. “I thought we’d start with those that supported Voldemort during the time he was staying in my home and work our way back. Who knows what else we might find?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You can’t be serious in turning this over to the Ministry, Draco,” Nott yelled as he threw Voldemort’s ledger onto his desk. The blond just waited for his friend to calm down and looked out of the office window to the beautiful London scenery. It was a rare sunny day. He wasn’t left waiting for long. Theo was nothing if not practical and economical. “Do you know what this will do to the older families? Nearly every pureblood family that wasn’t exclusively on the Light side is listed in this thing! It would make you a walking target.”

“Theo, my old friend,” Draco said coolly, “I am dating Harry Potter. If I was ever a target for the malcontents on the losing side, then that would have sealed the deal. This is to get the Ministry off of my back before it becomes an issue.”

Harry snorted derisively. “It’s already an issue, Draco, but I get what you’re saying.” He turned his attention to the fuming solicitor. “I have an idea about that, Nott. What if we gave it to Kingsley himself? He could tell whoever’s in charge of the case whatever we want him to. You know…a little damage control.”

The brown-haired man stopped his angry pacing and stared long and hard at Harry with a thoughtful expression on his face. “That might actually work to our advantage, Potter. What do you want to tell Kingsley?”

“Oh, we tell him the truth, but we can have him tell the Aurors that get the case that it was sent to him by an anonymous source while they were cleaning out some of their rooms,” Harry answered blithely.

“So, we go with Gryffindor honesty, tempered with Slytherin cunning?” Nott gave them a smile as he eyed Harry with a nearly greedy expression on his face. “I like him, Draco.”

“I know, he does grow on you, but remember, touch him and Pansy will be the least of your problems,” the blond responded brightly. When the solicitor blanched a bit, Draco broke out into a smug grin that had Harry snickering. Evidently, he still had the ability to scare his old friend. “Now, if you’re done cowering in fear, Theo, I’d like to get this to Shacklebolt as soon as possible.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Giving the ledger to Shacklebolt turned out to be a mixed blessing. It seemed as if the Aurors had had a good idea about two-thirds of Voldemort’s supporters throughout the madman’s rise and fall. However, the one-third that they _hadn’t_ known about was shocking to the public. Nearly every pureblood house that wasn’t firmly a supporter of Harry and Dumbledore had given money to Voldemort for his cause of “pureblood supremacy.” What shocked Wizarding Britain more was the half-blood lines listed. And this was disregarding the very _active_ families, like the Malfoys, Crabbes, Goyles and Notts.

Of course, _every_ Slytherin family was listed; sometimes more than one member of the same family. It was absolute pandemonium when the ledger came to light. Many families were filing lawsuits against the Ministry and the editor and owner of the _Daily Prophet_.

Unfortunately, the publication of the lists didn’t stop the murders. Three more bodies turned up around the homes of Harry Potter’s friends within a week of the list showing up on the front page of the _Prophet_. All three victims turned out to be Animagi, all registered with the Ministry and under surveillance by the Auror Corps.

Harry and Draco were at their wits’ end. They’d been interrogated—separately and together—many times and by different teams. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Theodore Nott were now on a first name basis. Pansy Parkinson-Nott and Demetrius Nott went to the continent after the third murder, if only to ease her husband’s mind. He’d told his two clients that he could live with the hit to his pocketbook if his family was safe, especially since Pansy had told him that she was pregnant with their second child.

Harry tried to convince his friends that were known Animagi to take a vacation outside of the British Isles, but none of them would do so. Ginny and Neville refused because the young man had just accepted the position of Herbology Professor at Hogwarts since Professor Sprout was set to retire at the end of the school year. Ginny refused to leave her new fiancé alone with a crazed murder. Luna refused to leave because she was working full time at _The Quibbler_ , now that her father had decided to take a much needed vacation from his duties as editor-in-chief.

Ron and Hermione were safe, since neither had managed to perfect the transformation and were well-known to have fought actively against Voldemort. None of the other Weasleys had succeeded either. Lee Jordan was registered as a cocker spaniel, and he was safe, since he spent most of his time with George and Angelina Weasley. Seamus Finnegan was registered as an Abyssinian house cat, but since he never left his pub in Dublin or the flat above it, he was safe as well.

Professor McGonagall, perhaps the most famous Animagus in Britain, flat out _refused_ to be moved by a murderer that targeted Animagi. She told Kingsley Shacklebolt and Harry both that if she hadn’t been run off by working with Severus Snape and the Carrows during Snape’s time as Headmaster or by Voldemort himself, then no pathetic crazy person was going to stop her from teaching the children in her care.

Narcissa Malfoy told her son and husband that if they were going to be staying in England, then so would she. She would not be forced from her home and family by a coward. Draco had looked at his mother as if it was the first time he had seen her, and Harry couldn’t help but smile at his lover’s mother with pride. Lucius, of course, was nearly frantic—in his controlled and calculated way—to find the killer so that his family wasn’t the next target.

Now, however, Draco was forced to look at Harry as he restlessly paced back and forth in his parlour. He had been doing so for the last two hours. His lover’s frustration was making what he wanted to say all the more difficult. _Mother will never forgive me if I don’t at least_ extend _the bloody invitation to stay at the Manor until this killer is apprehended, but I don’t think he will hear me reasonably while he is still so wound up. There are only two things that I can think that will calm him down—sex and…_

“Harry, how would you feel if we went to the Manor and stalked some of Father’s peacocks for a while?” Draco asked with a twisted grin.

“Your father would be angry if we damaged any of his precious pets,” Harry muttered, finally coming to a stop right before Draco. “Besides, what would we do while we were the…re?” It was as if a light went off in the Gryffindor’s brain. “You want to actually _hunt_ them?”

“Yes, of course,” Draco replied calmly. “What did you think I meant? If it is between losing  a few of his prize peacocks and peahens and worrying himself bald—a very bad look for someone of my father’s standing, by the way—about the safety of his _entire_ family, I’m sure the birds can be bred again. Of course, there are more than just the peacocks on the Manor’s grounds that we could hunt.”

“Somehow seeing Lucius Malfoy equating me as a member of his family is a little much for me,” Harry teased. “But, it’s a great idea. It’s not as if anyone is going to contact me in this recent scare, and anyone stupid enough to try and attack Malfoy Manor with Lucius on high-alert deserves what they get.”

“How positively Slytherin of you, Harry,” Draco purred as he stood to wrap his lover in a tight embrace. He leaned down to kiss Harry’s plump lips and Apparate them to the gates of Malfoy Manor.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He should have known that being Side-Along Apparated by Draco was a bad idea. They were too absorbed in the feel of each other’s bodies and what they would do when they were alone to pay attention to their immediate surroundings. That was a grave mistake that they would regret later.

No sooner had they landed outside of the massive iron gates that surrounded Draco’s ancestral home than they were under attack. And, of course, they couldn’t see who it was that was attacking them. Just as the feeling of having his molecules realigned left him, a brilliant flash of jagged, orange light soared by Harry’s head, hitting the iron monstrosities behind him.

He heard Draco cry out and began looking for his lover. He saw him crumpled on the gravel twenty paces away and clutching his left leg as a trail of crimson liquid gathered quickly under his hands. “Draco!”

“Don’t move, Harry Potter,” an unfamiliar female voice said. He watched as the woman in grey robes walked over to Draco and pushed her hood back as her wand stayed trained on her prey. “Ah, it was so easy to harm you, Draco Malfoy. Your father made it a little difficult to get onto the grounds, and of course Harry Potter’s house is warded better than Azkaban, but this spot—before the gates—it was perfect for my plan. Perhaps, if you live through this, you might want to bring that up with your dear papa. I doubt that you’ll survive, however.” She gave him an unbalanced smile.

“Who are you?” Draco asked through clenched teeth. Harry had to stop himself from rushing to the blond’s side. He was starting to look even paler than normal. “I’d like to know who it is that I will be tearing into tiny pieces later.”

The woman smiled again, making her plain, ragged features appear almost pleasant. “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be so surprised that you’ve forgotten me, Malfoy. You always were a self-absorbed cunt.” She cut her eyes to Harry’s face and frowned. “You too, Harry? I’m sure that Neville will be so distraught to hear that you’ve forgotten one of his closer friends from school.”

“I don’t give a crap who you are,” Harry snarled. “Let me help him. You’ve cut a major artery in his leg.”

“I don’t care,” she snapped. “His survival isn’t what I’m after, Harry Potter. Filth like him doesn’t deserve to live. His kind doesn’t care about anything or anyone besides themselves.” The woman turned her face completely to Harry and for the first time he could see the madness in her hazel eyes as the wind whipped her stringy blonde hair away from her face. “They kill indiscriminately, ruining families and lives as easily as you or I would purchase new clothes.”

Draco bit back a whimper of pain that felt like a lance to Harry’s heart. He looked at the distance between himself, Draco, and their attacker. Any action he’d take would alert the psychotic woman’s attention, but he _might_ be able to reach him before she did anything else to the already wounded blond. He even considered sending a Patronus in to alert Narcissa and Lucius, but it would take far too long and leave Draco too vulnerable while he did it. “Don’t do anything stupid, Harry,” Draco said under his breath before turning his full attention back to the woman.

“They told me that I would get over it, you know,” she said, “but I never did. And now, your parents are going to know what it feels like to have a loved one stolen away from them by the enemy.” She looked back and forth between them both and Harry could see her wand-hand shake. “However, I think I will make my point by taking you _both_.”

Harry ignored the woman’s ranting and slipped a hand into the sleeve of his robe where he kept his wand. He felt the familiar, smooth holly slide into his calloused palm. Using very small, nearly unnoticeable movements, he transformed into his panther form and lunged for her throat. The last thing he heard before the world went dark was a strangled cry from his mate. Then, nothing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Draco watched Harry transform, his fear of what would happen to them took a backseat to the overwhelming desire that rushed through his body. Harry was _magnificent_ —the sleek, muscular body of a black panther that was well fed and exercised. The perfection of his pitch coat was marred only by the white lightning bolt above his right eye. Somehow, his green eyes seemed even greener in his cat form, surrounded as they were by all that dark fur. Not to mention the fact that Harry’s deadly, sharp claws were out, ready to rip into anything stupid enough to get into his way, and his lethal teeth were ready to bite out a chunk of his enemy.

However, the woman’s hastily shouted “ _Somnus_ ” felled the great cat, and panther-Harry fell to the gravel with a _thump_ that made Draco wince in sympathy.  His lover would be _very_ sore when he woke up.

“So, _that_ is his Animagus form,” their attacker said in a hushed voice. “No wonder he wanted to have it kept under wraps. No one could have ever expected that Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding world, was a bloody panther. Just wait until I tell my colleagues. They’ll never believe me.”

“Who _are_ you?” Draco asked again, growling as she drew closer to his downed mate. “Stay away from him!” He was extremely worried at what the woman would do to Harry if she got too close to him and Draco wasn’t able to assist him.

“So, it’s true that he’s fucking you,” she said with a laugh that turned into a sneer. “My name—not that you deserve to know it, scumbag—is Susan Bones. I was in the same year as you and Harry there. I was a Hufflepuff; not that you ever paid attention to anyone that wasn’t a Slytherin or directly related to Lover Boy there.” Her sneer turned even harder. “I think it’s time that the two kitties should be collared. _Argentcuellus!_ ”

Draco could feel the cold of a silver collar as it snapped around his neck and just barely kept from crying out as the magic that ran through it kept him from changing into his Animagus form. “You will die,” he snarled. “You’d better hope that it is me that brings your end, because anyone else would be a bad thing for you.”

“Perhaps,” she responded, ignoring the warning in his tone and creeping closer to where Harry slept, still in his Animagus form. “Not by your hand, Malfoy, but I might die at the end of this. I don’t care if I do, but you will come with me. Him, too; I’m not sure. But not yet,” she whispered, casting a Healing charm on his leg to stem the bleeding. “And now, you can join your pretty, little boyfriend. _Somnus_.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry woke up and _everything_ hurt. His belly was especially sensitive—it felt like the gravel had torn into the thin skin and lodged in his body. One of his ears twitched and that made him stop to think.

He’d been about to attack that woman when everything went blank in his mind. _She must have cast a Sleep spell on me,_ he thought miserably. _So, where am I now? And where’s Draco?_

Carefully, since he could hear his captor muttering to herself on the other side of wherever he was being kept, Harry cracked open an eye and took in his surroundings. His beautiful Draco was lying beside him, obviously stuck in sleep that was anything but restful. His face was twisted into a mask of pain that nearly hurt Harry with its intensity. As Harry swept his eyes up and down his lover’s body, his vision swam when he saw the silver collar around Draco’s long, slender neck.

He raised a heavy paw and felt the coolness of metal around his own throat, chilling the sensitive pads. He was stuck in his Animagus form then. He’d heard that the Unspeakables had been working on collars to contain Animagi once they were caught. Supposedly, they worked on the same concept that Harry’s cages did. The question that ran through his mind was how in the world did the psycho that attacked him and Draco—no doubt she the murderer of the other Animagi—manage to get her hands on them?

He looked beyond just himself and Draco, taking in their surroundings. They were being kept in a large cage—more like a locked cell—that was in a room that appeared to be somewhere underground—like a root cellar or unfinished basement. The only other thing in the room was an old wooden desk and chair, where their kidnapper sat, watching him with sharp, hungry eyes from underneath her shabby, grey robes. Behind her were stacks of red file folders and books that he couldn’t see the titles of.

“Ah, how nice of you to finally wake up, Harry Potter,” she cooed, sounding disturbingly like Bellatrix Lestrange before her death. “I was wondering how long the most powerful wizard in Britain would stay down.” He growled menacingly at her as she approached the cage. She stopped, wearing a hurt expression.

“You know, I was raised to think you were some sort of god. You were the baby that defeated one of the scary bogeymen before he could even speak properly.  And to find out that you were in the same year as me at Hogwarts was amazing. To think that I would get to meet and have classes with a veritable hero was almost too much. My parents and aunt were so proud and excited for me.

“And to find out that you were nothing but a regular boy? Well, it was humbling, to say the least,” she said, her voice taking on a more reasonable tone. “It was as if anyone could have been the destroyer of Voldemort.” He felt his eyes widen in surprise. Even nearly eight years after the Final Battle, very few people could say that maniac’s name. His captor surprised him again by laughing. “Oh, yes, I can say his fictitious pseudonym. My aunt insisted that the fear of a name was ridiculous. She was a great friend of Professor Dumbledore, you know. You met her before, of course: Madam Amelia Bones.”

It was then that the niggling feeling he’d had since she’d thrown back her hood in front of the gates of Malfoy Manor erupted into certain knowledge. The murderess was Susan Bones, a girl who was close friends with Neville. She was, indeed, the niece of Madam Amelia Bones, the murdered Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the beginning of the war. Voldemort and his cronies had murdered Madam Bones during their takeover of the Ministry. They’d also murdered her husband, Edgar Bones, in the middle of Voldemort’s first rise to power and left the man’s body on the steps of Gringotts.

He tried desperately to change back into his human form, but a shock of electricity travelled up and down his body, making his muscles twitch and his knees give out. He let out a roar of frustration that woke Draco up. “I know that you think that the Unspeakables have managed to break the very clever way that you created your cages, but I’m here to tell you that they just aren’t that smart yet. I should know. I was one. In fact, I was the one assigned to find out how they worked. And while they can’t be broken into, they are surprisingly easy to con. Just drop an Animagus in their sensory barrier and they snap into place. The only thing you didn’t count on was whether or not the Animagus was alive or dead.

“Who did you get to help you, Potter? Loony Lovegood? Poor Neville? Ginny Weasley, the slut?” Harry growled at her, showing his dangerous teeth with some satisfaction. “Ah, touch a sore spot, did I? Malfoy, did you know that your lover still carried a torch for his ex? A little devastating, isn’t it?”

Harry turned his head to see the blond look at him with a blank expression on his face. Harry pulled himself to his feet and stalked over to his lover, who slowly wrapped his arms around his neck. Relieved that Draco wasn’t paying attention to Bones, Harry nuzzled his furred face against Draco’s smooth neck.

“Have you tried to transform again?” Draco whispered. Harry nodded. “The collar prevents it then?” Harry nodded again. “Fuck. I can’t Apparate us out of here, either, Harry.”

“Oh, it’s so sweet to see that you trust Potter so much, Malfoy,” Bones teased horribly. “He always has been horribly loyal, so I’m sure that he meant it when he said that he was irreparably homosexual. There’s no accounting for taste, I suppose. I’m surprised that the newspapers haven’t caught wind of your horribly deranged relationship. Maybe I’ll change that when we’re done here. No sense is letting you have your good reputations after I take your lives, you unnatural _freaks_.”

Harry stiffened as that word was levelled at him again after so many years. He wasn’t the only one who reacted, as Draco’s arms around his neck grew tighter. Of course he’d told his lover about the way he’d grown up with the Dursleys after they’d been dating for a while. That word was _never_ spoken between them, but Harry had had to spend quite a long time convincing Draco that going to Little Whinging, Surrey would have been a waste of time for someone like him. His relatives would never understand the abuse they’d heaped upon Harry during his tender, formative years, nor would they bother to apologise unless under duress.

“Are you calling us unnatural because we happen to be in a homosexual relationship, Bones? Did your dream of being Mrs Potter get ruined when you found out that Harry likes to take it up the arse?” Draco drawled, a hint of his icy anger creeping into his voice.

“Oh, Merlin, no,” she said with a bright laugh. “I’m not some horrid, small-minded Muggle with their God that hates fags. And I’ve never harboured some deep-seated longing for the Boy Who Lived. No, you’re freaks because you’ve gone against the rules of nature to become Animagi.”

“Are you kidding me?” Draco asked, removing his arms from around Harry’s neck so that he could stand up to his full height. He was like a beautiful, blond, angry angel bent on wreaking vengeance. “You’re an absolute nutter. It’s _magic_ , you bloody cow. Everything we _do_ is unnatural if you think of it that way. Magic twists the way a wizard interacts with the universe. Merlin, you’ve gone around the bend, Bones. What’s this all about really?”

“THAT BITCH YOU CALL A MOTHER KILLED MY AUNT!” she screeched. “She waited in the pond by her house in her horrid animal form. When Aunt Amelia came home, that bitch transformed and took her down.”

“Really?” Draco asked coldly. “And what do you think my mother’s Animagus form is, you stupid whore?”

“A black swan,” Bones spat hysterically. “I checked the records myself. It’s known that your mother was a follower of Voldemort and my aunt wouldn’t have been the first person that she killed.”

Draco shared a charged look with Harry before turning back to look at Bones as she stalked forward. “You are _an idiot._ My mother’s form is that of a swan, yes, but she is a _white_ swan. My aunt Bellatrix, however, was a _black_ swan and a known killer and sadist.” The temperature of Draco’s voice dropped a few more degrees to practically Arctic. “And for your information, my mother has _never_ killed a single person. Not even at the Final Battle when most people—even good, decent people like Potter and Molly Weasley—racked up a death or two on their souls.

“In fact, if you had been paying attention when Harry gave his testimony at the _many_ trials after the war ended, you would realise that my mother _saved_ him from certain death in the Forbidden Forest.” He scoffed as the woman seemed confused at his words. “Yes, my horridly evil mother, Narcissa Black-Malfoy, helped Harry Potter during the Final Battle, even though he was the enemy and a half-blood.

“And let us not forget how she’s welcomed into her family since we’ve been dating, and even my father’s acceptance of the inevitable. If my family was as evil and depraved you assume we are, then that would never have happened.”

“SHUT UP, MALFOY! JUST SHUT UP!” Bones screamed, covering her ears with her hands. “You and your pretty little boyfriend are _dead_ , and as soon as your stupid bitch of a mother steps foot into this house, so is she.”

Harry growled while stepping in front of Draco to make sure anything she tried to do hit him first. He tried to think of a way to get a message to his friends or to Lucius and Narcissa to stay away, but since he was stuck in his Animagus form, the main thought he harboured was tearing the psychotic cunt holding them hostage limb-from-barmy-limb. However, he couldn’t get Draco to shut up.

“Oh, and what about the fact that my mother _never_ took the Dark Mark? Did that information not register into your tiny brain?  Her left forearm is as pale and free of blemishes as it was when she was a child,” Draco said with a sneer. “ _I_ am the former Death Eater, not her, and if you think she’s going to be stupid enough to fall into this pathetic little trap—”

Harry watched in fear as Bones raised her wand hand and pointed it as his lover with a shaky smile. “I said, shut up, Malfoy,” she said. “ _Crucio!”_

Without thinking, Harry pushed Draco over, letting out a roar of pain as the curse struck him in his left flank and setting every nerve in his body on fire. In fact, it was probably worse than the times he’d experienced the Unforgiveable in his human body. There was so much pain that he couldn’t process it all and when the blackness of oblivion came back to grip him, he went willingly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Harry pushed him out of the way of the _Cruciatus_ curse, Draco felt his heart swell with emotions he didn’t know he could feel. And when the panther roared out in pain as his body twitched from the nerve-damaging, mind-numbing torture, Draco fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around the powerful body of the man/cat he cared for. “Stop!” he cried. “Stop hurting him!”

Bones let out a cold laugh as she cut off the curse on the now unconscious Animagus. “He’s so noble and brave; always thinking of others and never about himself. Don’t you think that will be a problem for your relationship if your lover is always throwing himself into harm’s way?”

“Why the _fuck_ do you care?” he snarled, holding Harry’s body as the limbs continued to twitch. “If you’re going to kill us, then what does Harry’s personality have to do with you?”

“It doesn’t,” she said conversationally. “I’m just curious as to how the two of you are able to actually get along. I mean, it’s obvious that you both love one another. You’re showing emotions and caring about someone other than yourself, and he just threw himself in the way of a _Cruciatus_. That’s not something you do if you don’t love them.”

She attempted to go back to her darkened corner that she’d started in when she jumped up with an excited cry. “Well, it appears that the main entertainment has arrived. Soon, Malfoy, you and Potter will join your aunt and his poor parents in Hell. I hope you’ve said your goodbyes.”

Draco ignored the inane babbling of their captor, turning his full attention to the panther that he clutched desperately. He could hear the heavy panting that signified Harry was still breathing, as well as feel the way the beast’s chest heaved against his thighs. His lover was alive, but he was stuck in his cat form, while Draco could neither transform himself nor Apparate them to safety. Feeling hopeless in a way that Draco hadn’t in years—not since Voldemort had used his love of his parents and their love for him against his entire family—he curled up as close as he could to his feline lover and stifled the urge to cry.

As he rubbed his face against Harry’s soft and shiny fur, the sound of heavy, familiar footsteps caught his attention. Trying to remain unnoticed by whoever the new person was, he turned his head over and watched as both of his parents walked into the room, their spines backer-board stiff and faces blank. He knew the moment that his mother noticed him and Harry in their cell, as Narcissa’s eyes grew large before closing. Lucius was less obvious to anyone who didn’t know him, but the slight tip of his regal head in Draco’s direction let him know that his father was aware of what was going on.

“Well, Mrs Malfoy, I never expected you to bring your husband with you,” Susan Bones said blithely. Draco looked back over at his mother and saw that she wore a similar restraining collar that he and Harry did. “That was against my orders, but never you mind that. As you can see, Potter and your son are alive.”

“What is wrong with Harry?” Narcissa asked calmly. “He is still in his Animagus form and is unconscious.”

“We had a slight problem with your son’s mouth running away from him. Potter took his punishment.”

Lucius turned slowly, grey eyes burning with the intensity that Draco was wary of—the intensity that he’d had from time to time since his return from Azkaban. It was then that Draco decided it would be safer for everyone to allow his parents to handle this. It was probably the only way they would all get alive. He also hoped that Lucius had remembered to bring his cane that held his second wand. “You used the _Cruciatus_ on an Animagus while transformed?” he asked, jiggling his famous cane with barely concealed contempt. “You might have killed him.”

Bones levelled her wand at the elder Malfoys with a sneer to rival Lucius—or Severus Snape—himself. “What do I care if Potter dies? If he hadn’t been out playing rustic camper out with Granger and Weasley when we desperately needed him, my aunt might have lived. And your son, well, he’s a Death Eater, just like you two. No one will miss any of you.”

“Your logic is faulty, Bones, but I am not surprised. Most fanatics do not use sense,” Lucius said, giving the girl his impressive sneer. The Unspeakable shrank back under his gaze. “You appear to be as sane as my former sister-in-law. That is extremely unfortunate.”

Draco watched as his mother lifted one hand to place it on his father’s arm and squeeze. “Lucius, please remember your manners, dear.” She turned to stare at the crazy woman that held them all as prisoners. “What it is that you want, Ms Bones?”

“What is your Animagus form, Narcissa Malfoy?” the girl asked sharply as her wand wavered between the two older blonds before her.

“Why, I do believe that it is a matter of public record that I am a white swan,” Draco’s mother replied derisively. From where he sat in the cage, he could tell that it was taking everything his father had to hold back from doing something to the woman as she disrespected Narcissa. However, they both knew that disrupting the Malfoy matriarch as she took down her prey was liable to make them the victim of her terrible temper. “As you are an employee of the Ministry, you would have access to that information without taking my entire family hostage.”

“LIES!” Bones screeched, jabbing her wand into Narcissa’s pale throat above the silver collar viciously. Draco saw Lucius stiffen and his father’s hand clenched tighter around the head of his cane. “You’re all liars. You’re a swan. You killed my aunt.” The wand she held turned to Lucius swiftly. “And you, you killed my uncle and cousin. You’re all liars and murders. I should hardly be surprised that you lie as easily as you breathe since you’re all Slytherins and Death Eaters to boot.”

Draco watched with trepidation as Bones approached Lucius without the fear he was used to seeing on the faces of those his father dealt with. If she hadn’t been as batty as he recalled old Professor Trelawney being and holding them all as hostages, then he might have had a modicum of respect for her, even if she was a Hufflepuff. Just as the girl stood in front of Lucius and began chanting some spell with complicated waving of her wand, Lucius’s hand that was holding his cane snapped out and smacked the wand from out of her hand.

“I think not,” Lucius said to her coldly. “If you think I will stand by idly and let you cast on me, you are sadly mistaken.”

Narcissa, never one to be outdone by Lucius, grabbed their captor’s wand with a calm exclamation of “ _Accio_ wand.” Instead of just Bones’s wand, Narcissa had ten wands all fly out at her.

The crazy Unspeakable attempted to snatch at one of the airborne wands, but Lucius was ready for her. His cane lashed out again, smacking her hand. From the snapping sound, Draco figured that his father had broken at least two of the woman’s fingers with the strike. When she turned to snarl at Lucius, he gave her a sinister smile before he announced clearly, “ _Incarcerous._ ”

Draco watched as ropes erupted from the end of Lucius’s cane and quickly wrapped around the writhing, screaming woman. Then, his father leaned over the woman with his cane pushing into her windpipe. “You have two choices, Ms Bones,” Lucius purred dangerously. “You can either tell me how to remove those horrible collars on my family _right now_ or I can torture you quite easily until I get bored and kill you.”

His demand was met by a snarl and he pressed his cane into the woman’s throat harder until she was choking on her own spit. Narcissa stepped up and pressed a hand against Lucius’s arm. “We will get nowhere if we kill her, Lucius,” she said carefully. “Besides, it will undo all of the good that Harry has done for our family if we are taken in front of the Wizengamot again.”

“You are right,” Lucius said carefully as he stepped away from the woman’s body. “I will attempt to open the cage while you get the needed information from Ms Bones.” His father’s steps were sure and strong as he approached the cage where Draco and Harry were still kept captive. The sounds of Narcissa making Bones scream cut through the air sharply. “You are well, my son?”

“I’m fine, Father,” Draco said calmly. “Harry, however, may not be so well off. He has remained unconscious since she used the _Cruciatus_ against him.”

“We will take him to St Mungo’s once we are all free,” Lucius said as he closed his eyes. “I cannot see how to open this, unfortunately. It is extremely complicated. If I attempt to use a Dark Arts spell, it might backfire. This is most vexing.”

“Here, my love, let me,” Narcissa said as she joined them. Draco turned his face to stare at his beaming mother’s lovely features. “I’ve always said that Hufflepuffs break easier than any other house under pressure.”

“The collars, Narcissa, how can they be removed?” Lucius asked as he watched the wand movement of the spell his wife used to unlock the cage.

“You will have to remove them, sadly,” Narcissa answered as the lock’s tumblers fell into line audibly. “They will shock any Animagi that tries to do so.”

“Did you contact any authorities?” Draco asked, since he knew that Harry would want to know when he was awake and that Bones needed to be taken into custody by the Aurors to answer for her crimes.

“Oh, _yes_ ,” Lucius purred as he examined the collar around Narcissa’s neck. Draco _wanted_ to be annoyed that his father was assisting his mother first, but he knew that if he could remove the collars himself, he would have removed Harry’s first. “As soon as Bones’s note arrived, we forwarded it to Theodore and sent a copy to Minister Shacklebolt. I rather expected a pair of bumbling Aurors to show up already.”

“Sometimes, it is a shame that our Harry did not become an Auror with his friend, young Mr Weasley,” Narcissa responded offhandedly. “At least then we would be guaranteed to have competent law enforcement officers.”

Draco laughed, feeling giddy as his weariness caught up with him and his body realised that it was safe from any real danger. “Mother, you wouldn’t say such things if I wasn’t involved with Harry.”

“Perhaps not, Draco, but I can recognise that Harry is far more intelligent than any of us gave him credit for while you were both in school,” Narcissa said coolly. The collar around her throat creaked open ominously before its silvery sheen tarnished. She reached a pale hand to her neck and rubbed at the obviously sensitive skin that had been trapped.

Before Lucius had released the band from around Draco’s own throat, Narcissa had rushed into the cell and wrapped her arms around him in a crushing hug. Warm and safe since leaving Harry’s house, Draco closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry woke up slowly, his whole body seeming as if he’d been in a fist fight with Crabbe and Goyle back in school—or if he’d fallen from his broom. He remembered bits and pieces of what happened with him and Draco in their cell where they were being kept by Susan Bones, but what he remembered the clearest was the fact that she had tried to curse Draco. He had jumped in front of it and passed out from the pain. _Some hero I turned out to be,_ he thought morosely. _I take one curse and I pass out, only to be rescued by someone else._

“Harry?” Draco’s familiar voice whispered near Harry’s ear. “I know you’re awake, Harry, so you will listen to what I have to say. The Healers assure me that you will recover nicely, but the fact that you took a _Cruciatus_ while transformed did more nerve damage than I would have received, you great idiot. However, you can leave as soon as a Healer comes in for another check-up. You and I will be having a long discussion about that when you are at home.

“Bones has been taken into custody. Mother and Father ended up rescuing us, but they contacted Theo and Shacklebolt before they left the Manor, so Aurors were ready when my parents levitated us out of the ruins of the late Madam Bones’s home two days ago.”

“Two days?” Harry croaked, trying to sit up but a hand on his chest keeping him pinned to the hospital bed. “I’ve been here for two days?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Draco answered in a strained tone. “They were beginning to worry that you would stay in the healing coma for a few more days, but since you are Harry Potter, you have to prove them wrong.

“Sadly, they’ve found two more dead bodies in Bones’s hideout—MacGregor and Flannery, the last of the sympathisers that funded Voldemort the first time that were alive. They weren’t Animagi, so she couldn’t get any of the cages to activate and was forced to find another place for their corpses.”

“Ron? ‘Mione?”

“I’ve taken the responsibility of alerting the Weasley clan of what happened, but the Healers have refused to let any of them in because they are unable to remain calm.” Draco frowned. “You will be happy to know that my father and Arthur Weasley _can_ be in the same area and _not_ attempt to murder one another; although, it has been a close thing. Mother and Granger have been having a grand time speaking to one another.

“Oh, and Rose is demanding to know if my father can turn into a _kitty_ like you and I. She seems to think that because I look like my father that he _must_ be an Animagus as well.”

“I bet that Lucius loves having that fact rubbed in his face,” Harry said around a tiny chuckle. “And by a Weasley child, no less.”

“Yes, well, it is as I feared. Rose Weasley’s charm far surpasses the fact that she has ginger hair. My father is utterly taken with her and wondering why I haven’t given you up and married some lovely pureblood to give him many grandchildren.”

Harry closed his eyes to process everything. Lucius’s begrudging acceptance had been a constant in his relationship with Draco, but if the older man was withdrawing it, what did that mean overall? _He’ll probably leave me and go back to how his life was before,_ he thought harshly.

“If you seriously think that I am entertaining the thought of trying to fulfil his stupid suggestion, then you are an idiot,” Draco said through clenched teeth. “I would have hoped that I have proved myself better than that by now, Potter.”

Harry felt his pulse slow down and his breathing become easier as the panic he felt receded. Draco _wasn’t_ going to leave him. They were still alive after everything, and their families were getting along as well as could be expected. “You don’t have to prove yourself to me, Draco,” he said once he had his brain in order.

“I should hope not,” Draco said before leaning over and kissing Harry’s cheek softly. “Now, do you want to see the Weasleys or shall I tell them all that you’ll see them once you are settled back at Grimmauld Place?”

Harry thought carefully about what Draco was asking and realised that he didn’t have a lot of energy. “Your parents and Arthur and Ron and Hermione are all that I have energy for,” he said tiredly. “You can let the rest of them know that I’ll see them a few days from now.”

Draco raised one eyebrow with a sardonic smile on his lips. “Yes, Master Harry,” he squeaked in poor imitation of poor Winky. “Is there anything else that Master Harry be needing from Draco?”

Harry laughed quietly. “Yes, you can give me a better kiss than that, you prat, and stop acting like Winky or I shall give you a task worthy of a house-elf.”

Draco chuckled before leaning over Harry. “I doubt you let your house-elves fuck you senseless, Harry. If so, there are a few things we need to discuss.” Harry shivered as the silky purr of his lover rolled over him.

Suddenly, the blond captured his lips in a bruising, promising kiss. Harry moaned as Draco’s hands found purchase in his hair and on his shoulder, pinning him to the uncomfortable hospital bed as his tongue and teeth bit and licked for entrance into Harry’s mouth. He opened it obligingly, darting his own tongue out to do battle with the blond. He could feel Draco’s body shivering above him and wrapped his arms around his lover’s neck, drawing him down until he rested against his chest. As Draco’s weight settled onto his body, he could feel his nerves cry out in pain, but his brain was growing fuzzier by the second as the kiss continued.

Finally, Draco pulled back, licking his red, puffy lips. “You’re an idiot, Potter,” he whispered huskily. “I’m sure that that had to hurt, and yet you were happy to let it continue.”

“Of course,” Harry replied. “I’ve been stuck in this bed for days without you. The pain is nothing compared to that.”

“Merlin, I’ve gone and attached myself to a Hufflepuff,” Draco huffed. “Stay here, Potter. I’ll go do your biding.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco sighed happily as he left Harry’s hospital room to face the full waiting area. He’d only been out of the room for a few seconds when he was besieged by the Weasley horde. Granger, with her horridly bushy hair, was the first to start asking questions, of course.

“Is he okay, Malfoy? Does he need anything? Should we bring him something from home?” she asked, tugging on the frizzy strands nearest her face.

“Breathe, Granger,” he said, trying to put some distance between himself and the people surrounding him. “And let me do so as well.”

With some satisfaction, he saw George Weasley drag back his younger brother and Longbottom pull back his fiancée. Granger and her parents-in-law stayed close to him, but they gave him some space. “Harry is in _some_ pain, as the Healers warned us. Not surprising, since they wouldn’t give him any potions for it while unconscious. He’s also very tired, so only a few people will see him tonight and the rest he will see at Grimmauld Place once he’s settled and feeling better.”

“And just who’s made the cut, Malfoy?” Ronald Weasley asked snidely.

Ignoring his impertinent tone, Draco decided to answer him succinctly. “My parents, Arthur Weasley, the Weasel and Granger are all he has energy for. He apologises to you, Molly, but he’s very tired and doesn’t want a lot of mothering.” The redheaded woman’s cheeks flushed hotly, but she nodded in acknowledgement of how she’d react. “The rest of you I’m sure he’ll contact once he’s feeling better.”

“Why does he want to see _your_ parents, Malfoy?” the Weaslette spat hotly. “Why would he not want to see Mum, but your parents are okay?”

“Perhaps that is because _we_ are the ones who rescued Harry and our son,” Narcissa responded coldly as she stepped up to join Draco as he faced the Red Horde. Lucius also joined his wife and son, but refrained from making any of his own comments, only handing Rose to her grandmother.

Arthur Weasley turned to his daughter with a sad, tired expression on his face. “Ginny, please don’t cause a scene right now. Harry’s already injured. The press are waiting outside for any morsel of gossip and should someone be ‘round the corner, this scene will be splashed all over the papers tomorrow.”

Fleur Weasley, swollen with her fourth child, led her sister-in-law over to a chair while the redheaded woman silently sobbed. Longbottom sighed before holding his hand out to Draco. “I’ll see you in a few days then, Malfoy,” he said as they shook hands. “I’m going to take Ginny home. Hopefully some sleep will clear her head.”

“Hopefully,” Draco said carefully as the brunet went to collect his fiancée and leave. Soon, George and Angelina Weasley left, the former twin patting Draco on the shoulder before they departed. Bill and Fleur left next, the part-Veela placing a chaste kiss on Draco’s cheek before she waddled out of the hall and towards the fireplaces set aside on the ward for Floo-travel.

“Dwaco?” Rose called, grabbing the blond’s attention. “Unca Harry okay?”

He smiled softly at his little friend and held his arms out for her so she could come to him. “Yes, your Uncle Harry will be just fine, Rose,” he said gently. He was rewarded by a wet, smacking kiss on his cheek from the little girl before she placed her head on his shoulder. “Would you like to see for yourself?”

“I b’wieve you,” she whispered as she closed her eyes. “You tell twuff.”

“Of course, Rose,” Draco said, rubbing his cheek in the little girl’s curly hair affectionately as she began to drool all over his expensive, silk robes. He looked up to see Ron Weasley’s eyes studying him carefully. “What?”

“You’re okay, Malfoy,” Weasley said finally. “Rose wouldn’t trust you like that if you weren’t.” The redhead’s blue eyes narrowed quickly. “You do anything to hurt _anyone_ important to me, and I’ll have a new rug.” He looked over at Draco’s parents, who were stiff and frowning disapprovingly. “I don’t care what you lot have to say. Harry’s our family, and your son’s just gotten his notice.”

Lucius, always the first to pull himself together around Weasleys, nodded firmly as he sized up the tall, lean man before them. “And just know that if you do anything to my son, I will use your head to amuse my house-elves.”

“Then we understand each other,” Ron said before turning on his heel and entering Harry’s room with Granger and his father following like obedient little ducks.

“I am well aware that you will not be leaving Potter any time soon, Draco,” Lucius whispered as Narcissa spoke to Molly Weasley, albeit haltingly. What the two women could find to talk about, considering how different they were on many levels, Draco was at a loss to figure out. Instead, he turned his attention back to his father. “However, you still have duties to our family to consider. I would like it if you brought Harry to the Manor in a week so that we can discuss them.”

“If Harry feels up to it,” Draco replied, hugging the girl in his arms possessively and drinking in the smell of her innocence and soap. When Granger, looking less strained and more relaxed and happy, exited Harry’s room, Draco reluctantly relinquished his hold on the sleeping girl.

“Malfoy, if you’d like to keep Rose sometime during the week, Ron’s reluctantly agreed to let you do so, with no restrictions aside from it being at Harry’s house,” Granger said quietly as she adjusted her hold on her daughter.

 _Well, Harry’s safe, and Weasley’s just given me free rein to spend time with his daughter_ , he thought happily, letting a tiny smile to escape. Granger startled a bit and returned it with a little hesitation. “Tell him I said thank you then,” he replied as he went to join his parents in Harry’s room as Ronald and Arthur Weasley left. _I could say that this whole thing has had a relatively happy ending._

_~ Finite ~_


End file.
